


The Difference Between Absolution and Redemption (Has Always Been Where You End Up)

by race_the_ace



Category: Leverage, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Stargate Atlantis AU, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 56,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/race_the_ace/pseuds/race_the_ace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>boy meets boy. boy and boy fall in love. five years after that boy meets boy and boy. boy and boy woo boy. boy and boy take boy to see giraffes. boy falls for boy and boy. boy, boy and boy live happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: The Lessons About Freedom Job [JOHN&ELIOT]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art for The Difference Between Absolution and Redemption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/251431) by [calcitrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcitrix/pseuds/calcitrix). 



> **Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate Atlantis, Leverage, Stargate SG1 or any of their characters or plots. I mean no infringement, this is for personal benefit only.  
>  **Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis/Leverage/Stargate SG1  
>  **Pairing:** John Sheppard/Eliot Spencer with eventual John Sheppard/Eliot Spencer/Jonas Quinn  
>  **Word count:** 56,632  
>  **Rating:** NC-26  
>  **Summary:** boy meets boy. boy and boy fall in love. five years after that boy meets boy and boy. boy and boy woo boy. boy and boy take boy to see giraffes. boy falls for boy and boy. boy, boy and boy live happily ever after.  
>  **Warnings:** Past sexual and emotional abuse referenced, some violence, AU--very little canon, threesome  
>  **Beta:** ninja007  & welfycat  
> Artist: calcitrix
> 
>  **Author’s Notes:**  
>  \- Things you’ll probably need to know before reading this fic: Takes place after the Ori are destroyed, Jonas is with the SGC because his planet was destroyed, John is not with the SGC, the Leverage crew works out of Denver and have a separate office like they did in season one, and ignore that episode where Jonas goes to Antarctica, also forget everything you know about Langara, and Jonas wasn’t responsible for Daniel dying/ascending.  
> \- Timeline explanations: first season of Leverage, although about two years before it aged. Everyone but Eliot is the same age, Eliot’s a few years younger than he is on the show. John’s about the age he is in the first season of Atlantis, even though the two shows don’t line up timeline wise.  
> \- _Mary, Can You Come Outside_ belongs to Christian Kane  
>  \- Parker’s quote about locks is paraphrased from Leverage, “The Beantown Bailout Job”.  
> \- Very little, if any, Leverage knowledge is required to read this fic. It will probably help, though.  
> \- There are random spaces throughout this fic. You can thank AO3 for that. They don't mean anything other than AO3 hates me and sucks. Cheers.
> 
>  **Special Thanks:**  
>  \- welfycat, who has heard me talk and talk and talk about this fic for months.  
> \- theeverdream, calcitrix, and camshaft22, for letting me talk through a scene with them when I was stuck  
> \- somehowunbroken, who was just there while I was writing and there when I wasn’t  
> \- calcitrix, for making me some beautiful art  
> \- ninja007 and frellnik, for being so supportive and amazing  
> \- lears_daughter, for being beyond awesome  
> \- emeraldsnakes, for being simply amazing
> 
> The soundtrack for this story can be found and downloaded [here](http://race-the-ace.livejournal.com/170447.html).
> 
> Also, Calcitrix has made some freaking amazing art to go along with it. Please go shower her in love and awe. She beyond deserves it

[](http://archiveofourown.org/works/251431) .......... [](http://archiveofourown.org/works/251431)

  


Art by [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/calcitrix/profile)[**calcitrix**](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/calcitrix/)

*****

-0- **Part One: The Lessons About Freedom Job [JOHN &ELIOT] **-0-

The first time John sees him, he’s an FBI agent, escorting the Dean of Students out of the Main Admissions Hall of the university where John works. He’s not sure what it is, exactly, that draws his eyes to the man, but John’s intrigued.

The second time John sees him, he’s a janitor at the Museum of Electronic Art. It takes John a moment to realize it’s the same man. He wonders how someone goes from FBI agent to janitor so quickly. The man notices his stare and scowls a little, brushing past him while grumbling to himself.

The third time John sees him is in a small Irish pub a couple of miles from John’s apartment. He’s dressed normally and sitting with a small group of people. John’s already missed his chance twice, but he’s never really been the kind to go after what he wants. John prefers his books and his solitude. And looking at the FBI agent/janitor.

He sits at the bar with his Glenfiddich, alone. There’s people moving around him, but no one stops to chat, and the next closest person is four stools over. John has a perfect viewpoint of the man with the crazy blue eyes and long hair.

Suddenly the man laughs and John’s always heard the phrase _lights up his face_ , but he’s never really seen it. Not until now. And now that he has, John wants to see it all the time.

The man is chatting with his friends, and John’s chest aches a little. He’s never had friends like that, friends he could hang out at a pub with, or laugh with. He’s never had friends that were anything more than colleagues, really. John has always been okay with that, too, except suddenly he wants nothing more than to laugh with someone, to make them laugh.

John’s slightly disappointed when the man gets up and heads in the direction of the bathroom. He goes back to his scotch, staring into the amber liquid, looking for proof of life--proof of anything. John just kind of exists these days. He comes up for air long enough to spout off another new math theorem, or to prove something else that’s impossible. It’s the only thing that makes him feel alive, lately. John’s not old, not really. He’s almost thirty-four, but he feels old. He feels ancient.

“Who are you working for?” a voice growls near his ear.

John startles and turns his head to find piercing blue eyes staring at him; they’re even bluer up close. He sucks in a breath. “What?” he coughs out.

“I’ve seen you,” the man states. “At the university, at the museum, and now here. I don’t forget faces. You’re following me.”

John swallows. “I’m not. You just happen to be where I am. I work at the university, and knew the artist at the show opening. This place is near my apartment.”

“Who sent you?” the man asks in a dangerous voice.

John can feel his heart racing and the heat from the other man’s body. John hasn’t been with anyone for months, and even then it had been a string of one-night stands, before John decided they weren’t worth it. So it’s been a while, and at least part of him is taking notice. John’s still lost in the man’s eyes; eyes full of distrust, wariness, and danger.

John reaches into his back pocket and the man tenses until John pulls out his wallet. He lays his University ID card on the counter next to his driver’s license.

“John Sheppard,” the man reads. He traces John’s address with a finger.

“Nice to meet you,” John says, holding out a hand.

The man doesn’t take it. Instead he takes a step back. “Whatever you think you know, you don’t,” he says. Then he turns to walk away and John can already feel him slipping from his grasp.

“Wait,” John gets out. The man stops, but doesn’t turn around. “Can I…can I buy you a drink? A beer?”

When he turns around, John realizes the man is a lot younger than he seemed at first. John feels old, again. The guy couldn’t have been older than some of John’s students. Instead of annoyed, though, the man looks thoughtful. Before he can answer a blonde woman bounds up to him and grabs him from behind. “Hey, Eliot,” she greets. “Everything okay?”

 __

Eliot, John thinks. He’s never known an Eliot.

“Get off me, Parker,” Eliot growls. He shrugs her off--gently, John notices. There’s a hint of fondness mixed with exasperation. “Everything’s fine.”

“Because Nate was doing that shifty eyed thing he does…” she says, gesturing back towards their table.

“I’m fine,” Eliot reiterates. “Go sit down, Parker. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Parker shoots a look at John, that he can’t quite define, and then leaves. Eliot stares at John silently. He nods and says, “I’ll see you later, John.”

Then he’s gone, back to his table, leaving John alone again, with his scotch. John tells himself that the tightness in his chest, and the lump in his throat, are just his imagination. He’s fine. Everything’s fine, as Eliot had said.

-0-

John sees Eliot for the fourth time while he’s at the bank. John’s going inside to deposit a check, and Eliot’s outside, with Parker and another man who looked to be even younger than Eliot.

John’s heart skips a beat, but he doesn’t say anything, just tries not to look at Eliot as he enters. He waits in line patiently, doing math equations in his head, when he becomes aware of someone standing close behind him. John turns and Eliot is there, an amused look on his face. He nods to John in greeting and John mentally saves his equations and tries to figure out what to say. He settles for a smile and a, “Maybe _you’re_ following _me_.”

“I was here first,” Eliot says. It’s true, he was, and John smiles a little bit more, unexpectedly pleased to see him. It’s been a month since that night in the bar, and John was so sure that Eliot had forgotten all about him; he’s been trying to forget Eliot.

John’s never been good with emotions, or saying the right thing, so he’s mostly unconcerned when he blurts out, “Want to get dinner?”

Eliot studies him again, in that silent, judging way of his. John shifts uncomfortably and moves up in the line when someone in front of him is called.

“How about that beer?” Eliot says finally. “Then we’ll see about dinner.”

“Beer,” John murmurs. “Yes, sure, that sounds…that sounds good. I… Where? When? Do you want to meet at that pub aga--”

“No,” Eliot says forcefully, cutting him off. “How about your place?”

“My place?” John can picture his small apartment in his mind. It has one bedroom and books everywhere. He’s wealthy enough to afford much better, but he’s never needed it. His apartment is a short commute away from the university campus, and John really just needs a place to sleep. He has a huge office at school, and even more books there, where he does all his work. “It’s…small,” John tells him.

Eliot shrugs. “As long as it has beer.”

John nods. He doesn’t have any beer yet, but he can get some before Eliot comes over. “Okay.”

“I’ll meet you at your place at nine.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, tonight,” Eliot answers.

“Should I… do you need my address?”

Eliot laughs quietly. “Nope. I’ll see you there, John.”

As quietly as he appeared, Eliot disappears back through the bank’s main entrance. John stands there dazed and a little unable to believe that just happened. He thinks he has a date tonight, or something like a date. It seems like a date.

John hasn’t been on a date in a long time and he’s suddenly very nervous again. A teller calls, “Next!,” and John realizes with a start that that’s him. He hurries to the open window, mind a million miles away.

-0-

Eliot stares at his closet. It’s ridiculous. He’s been staring at it for a good ten minutes now, putting more thought into his clothing than he has for any other date.

 __

Date.

That’s ridiculous, too. Eliot hasn’t dated since Aimee. Sure he’s _hooked up_ , but he doesn’t think that’s what this is. At least that’s not what it feels like. Eliot’s always been into guys and girls, but he’s stuck almost exclusively to girls. Guys who like guys are frowned upon in the army, and then after that it was just easier to be with a girl--less questions, less looks, less everything.

There’s something about John Sheppard, though. He has a look on his face that Eliot’s seen one too many times, a look of resignation, of sadness. Even when he smiles.

Eliot sighs and pulls out a blue button-up shirt that he can remember Sophie saying looks nice on him. He has a pair of blue jeans on, and his normal work boots.

He feels inexplicably nervous as he shoves some condoms and lube into his pocket. He’s not sure if they’ll get that far tonight, John seems jumpy enough, but it never hurts to be prepared. Eliot runs a hand through his hair as he catches his reflection in the mirror. He wonders if John sees what he sees--probably not since John’s already asked him out twice.

Eliot’s been fighting the good fight for a while now, working with Nate and the others, but sometimes he feels as though it’s all an act. He did bad things, terrible things, before he met them, things they only think they know. There’s no absolution for him anymore, but maybe there’s redemption.

He grabs his wallet, and his car keys off of the dresser. With one more glance at his reflection, he’s out the door.

-0-

John has three different kind of beers in his fridge. Normally he has none, or maybe some Budweiser, but today he has Bud, Sam Adams, and Guinness.

He’s been trying to clean up, not that it’s terribly messy, but he puts books back on the shelves, folds blankets, vacuums, wipes down counters, and whatever else he can think to do. When he finishes, his apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been in the four years he’s lived there.

He’s nervous. Eliot will be the first person he has over, the first person to see where he lives. John thinks he needs more friends; if only he could live outside of his mind long enough to make them.

He showers to get the dust and dirt off of him. It’s a quarter to nine when he’s finally dressed and ready. John paces the short length of his living room, seven steps one way, seven another. He forces himself to focus on the here and now, because John’s alienated a lot of people due to losing himself in his thoughts, to the numbers. He doesn’t want to lose Eliot before he even has him.

John’s watch beeps at 8:59 and he turns to face the door, just standing in the middle of his apartment, waiting. He feels awkward and over-dressed in a black button-down and nice jeans. He feels hope, small and unbidden, curled in the pit of his stomach. This is a chance, a chance for more than John has ever wanted before. He hardly knows Eliot, but he wants him.

The minutes tick by and by 9:08 there’s still no Eliot. The hope starts to curl into something more painful, more achy and John’s chest tightens. He’s still standing and staring at the door.

At 9:10 there’s a knock.

John’s heart races as he takes a couple of slow breaths to try and calm himself down. When he opens the door, Eliot’s on the other side, looking amazing and way out of John’s league. He also looks even younger than he did in the pub, and John wonders again how old he is.

He stiffly steps back to let Eliot in, unsure of what the protocol is for having people over. He tries to recall what his mother told him about guests, but all he can remember is to put the seat down and to offer them a beverage.

“Beer?” he blurts out. John inwardly cringes at how pathetic he sounds. “I have Bud, Sam Adams, and Guinness.”

“Sam Adams is good,” Eliot says. He always sounds so confident, as though he has nothing to fear from anyone.

John always feels as though he has everything to fear.

He maneuvers his way past Eliot and into the small kitchen. He pulls out a Bud for himself and a Sam Adams for Eliot. John pops the top on the counter before offering the bottle to the other man. Eliot smiles his thanks and takes a deep swig. John opens his can and tries not to chug down some artificial confidence; it’s not as easy as it seems.

He suddenly becomes aware that they’re standing in his tiny kitchen that barely fits John, much less both of them, so John leads them into the living room and Eliot follows. There’s a couch in the corner that Eliot sits down on, John takes the other side.

“No TV?” Eliot asks.

John shrugs. “Would rather read.”

Eliot laughs a little and glances pointedly at the books. “Never would have guessed,” he says. John can hear a southern drawl in the words and he inwardly swoons a little.

John smiles nervously and grips his beer tight. Whatever courage he’d had to ask Eliot out, has long dissipated. Eliot drains the last of the beer and sets his bottle on the small table next to him.

“Another one?” John asks.

Eliot thinks about it and shakes his head. “Tell me about you,” he says.

“What do you want to know?”

Eliot shrugs. “Age? Are you from Colorado? What do you teach? What do you like to do? Anything, really.”

“I’m thirty-three,” John says, the number sounding foreign in his mouth, despite the fact that his birthday is in a couple of months. “I’m from Connecticut, originally. I used to do some work with the Air Force, which is why I moved out here. I teach mathematics and aeronautical design. I like to read and hike, although, not at the same time. You?”

“Twenty-eight,” Eliot answers, and John feels relieved that he’s not _that_ much younger than John. Although he is the age of a few of John’s students. “From Texas.”

“What do you do?”

“I help people,” Eliot says with an odd look in his eyes. “I work at _Leverage Consulting and Associates_. We help those that the system has forgotten.”

“So you’re not an FBI agent? Or a janitor?” John asks, although he already knows that Eliot isn’t.

“Nope.”

“So, what else do you do?”

“I like to cook,” Eliot tells him. “Make music, ride horses.”

“And you’re single?” John asks hesitantly.

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” Eliot returns.

Some of the tension falls out of John’s shoulders and the can in his hand makes slight crunching noises as John absently squeezes it. He wonders if that means Eliot is here because he wants to be, if he likes John just a little. Because John likes him. More than a little. A lot.

Eliot scoots over on the couch. He gently takes John’s beer out of his hand and sets it aside. “Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?” he asks.

John nods. “Everyone.”

Eliot quirks a smile. “Well, okay then.” He leans in and kisses John, just like that. Eliot tastes like beer and toothpaste and just really, really good.

John’s been told he’s not a very good kisser, actually, John’s been told he’s not very good at sex, either. His last boyfriend had said it to him before they broke up. John thinks it’s partly why he had switched to his short period of one-night stands. He’s not sure he’s any better at sex now than he was then, though.

Eliot’s a great kisser, John thinks. There’s a warm hand on John’s hip, and another on the back of his neck, holding him in place. John tries to keep up, tries to make it so that Eliot doesn’t regret kissing him. He’s not sure if it works, but Eliot doesn’t stop.

They slide together, down John’s couch, until John’s lying on his back on the cushions, and Eliot’s on top of him, between his legs. Kissing Eliot feels better than anything else has in a while and John wants more. He digs his hands into Eliot’s shirt, clutching at the fabric.

When they come up for air, Eliot’s lips are swollen and hair tickles John’s neck.

“If we do this, is it just tonight?” John blurts out, and he really needs to stop doing that.

“Do you want that?” Eliot asks, his drawl seeping through lazily.

John shakes his head. “Not really. Do you?” He meets Eliot’s eyes, but he can’t read anything in them other than desire and wariness.

“It’s really hard to think when you look at me,” Eliot admits. He uses his thumb to wipe at John’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

It’s been a long time since anyone’s called John _beautiful_ , or _pretty_ , or _handsome_. Anything other than _fucking ugly_ , actually.

“You have really nice eyes,” John tells him in reply, then cringes. Brain. Mouth. Filter needed.

Eliot grins. “Thank you.”

John unfurls a fist and lets Eliot’s shirt fall from his grasp. He smoothes a hand over Eliot’s back. “Do you? Eliot?”

“Can we just…see where this goes?” Eliot asks.

“Will you call me in the morning?”

Eliot leans forward so that his mouth is next to John’s ear. “719,” he says. “596-5433.”

John’s brain automatically latches onto the numbers and he’s saving them in a mental Eliot folder. “Do you want to know mine?”

“You’ll call,” Eliot tells him confidently. “And I’ll have it.” He kisses John’s neck softly. “Anything else?”

“No,” John breathes. “I’m good.”

“Yeah,” Eliot agrees. “You are.”

A hand slides up John’s shirt and he’s suddenly glad he cleaned his bedroom, too. John has never been a sex on the first date kind of guy, mostly when that happened there was no date, but he wants this with Eliot.

“Bedroom,” John gets out, between kisses.

“Where?” Eliot asks in a husky voice.

John points to the short hallway behind him. Eliot pulls him up and they stumble into John’s room. Eliot tugs his shirt off while toeing off his shoes and John follows suit. Eliot pushes John down onto the bed and climbs in on top of him, trapping him against the mattress.

“You sure about this?” Eliot asks. It’s more than John had thought he would do.

John bites his lip and nods. “I’ve been told I’m…not very good. So, uh, sorry in advance.”

Eliot’s eyes darken and anger seeps out when he asks, “Who told you that?”

“My ex,” John explains plainly. “It’s okay, he was being truthful. I just thought you should know.”

“No one gets to tell you that, ever,” Eliot growls. He leans down and _claims_ John’s mouth with his own. The kiss is hot and possessive and Eliot’s fingers are making short work of John’s pants. John thinks he should probably be helping, but he can’t get his body to move.

Soon John is naked, but Eliot’s not, and it hardly seems fair. It’s clear that Eliot’s in charge, though, and John doesn’t mind in the least bit. Eliot’s jean-clad crotch rubs against John’s cock and it’s hot as hell.

They’re kissing and John thinks he could spend hours like this, with this man that he barely knows. Eliot pulls away and nips at John’s chin before moving down John’s body. There are feather soft kisses pressed to his chest, and John feels so alive.

His fingers run through Eliot’s hair and it’s so soft that John wants to be able to touch it forever. He wonders if Eliot minds, because he doesn’t think he can stop touching it right now if he tries.

John’s mind is so busy categorizing the feeling of Eliot’s hair that Eliot takes him by surprise when he swallows him down. If John’s honest, it’s not the best blow job he’s ever had, but it’s far from the worst. By the end of his time with Mike, John had gotten really good at giving them. He figures they just need a little bit of time to get it right. John hopes they’ll get that time.

Eliot’s head moves up and down and John’s fingers dig further into his hair, holding on. John loses track of time as sensations rush through him. When he feels close, he gives Eliot’s head a small shove, but Eliot stays put. His tongue swirls and John comes with a soft cry; Eliot swallows the liquid down.

When he lets John fall out of his mouth, his lips are red and swollen, and his mouth glistens with spit and come. John tugs him down for a kiss, tasting himself in Eliot’s mouth.

John licks his lips and sits up, reaching out to Eliot who is almost kneeling in front of him, legs on either side of John’s body. John’s hands shake as he unbuttons Eliot’s pants and reaches in. Eliot hisses as John pulls his dick out. He licks his lips again, wetting them, before lowering his mouth.

John deep throats him a couple of times before he leans back against the headboard. Eliot gets the message and places his hands behind John’s head. John opens his mouth wide and Eliot thrusts in deep. Their eyes meet as Eliot fucks his mouth, hazel to blue, with Eliot on the edge.

He feels Eliot’s cock hit the back of his throat repeatedly, and John revels in how full he feels.

“Fuck,” Eliot swears.

He says John’s name when he comes.

After a few moments, Eliot collapses down onto the bed next to John. John slides down until he’s facing Eliot, sharing a pillow. They’re so close to each other. At this range, John can make out scars on Eliot’s body that he hadn’t been able to see through desire-filled eyes. He traces a finger over one, and Eliot’s gaze snaps to his, but John just moves to a new scar, tracing that. John’s never been curious about things that aren’t numbers, and he’s not about to start now.

“I won’t ask,” he says.

Eliot searches his face for something before saying, “Okay.”

“Do you want to stay the night?” John asks. “I make really good pancakes.”

Eliot pushes his jeans off and tosses them off the side of the bed, along with his boxers. John pulls the blankets up over them and lets Eliot move him around until they’re comfortable.

-0-

John calls the next day. He’s read that a man should wait a few days before calling, but he’s always thought that ridiculous, so he calls.

Eliot picks up on the second ring and three minutes later, John has a dinner date. It’s enough to put butterflies in his stomach and a smile on his face.

“Professor Sheppard?” someone asks from the doorway.

John looks up from his phone to see a couple of students hovering in the doorway hesitantly. He waves them in and vaguely recognizes them from one of his fluid dynamics classes.

They take the chairs in front of his desk and John tries not to sigh too loudly. Seven hours and forty-two minutes until he can see Eliot again. Right now it seems like an eternity.

-0-

“Oooo,” Parker says as soon as Eliot walks in. “Someone’s happy.”

Eliot sees Hardison look up from his computer while Sophie and Nate turn to face him. Eliot scowls at them. “What?”

“You’re smilin’, man,” Hardison says with a grin.

“No, I’m not,” Eliot denies.

“Hate to break it to you, Eliot,” Sophie cuts in. “But that’s definitely a smile.”

“So, what? I can’t be happy now?”

“You can be happy,” Hardison says. “We just never see it.”

Parker bounds over to him. “Whatcha happy about?”

“First tomato of the season,” Eliot answers. It’s true, but it’s not why he hasn’t stopped grinning since this morning--last night really.

He’d woken up with John, and true to his word, John had made him pancakes and they had been delicious. They’d made out for a little while after that, and then John had walked him to his truck and promised to call, which he had, about five minutes before Eliot arrived at the Leverage offices.

“You’re smilin’ over a tomato?” Hardison asks in disbelief. “C’mon, man, at least make up a better lie than that.”

“How about: it’s none of your damn business, Hardison,” Eliot grinds out.

Hardison holds his hands up, “Hey, just tryin’ to figure out what can make you smile like that, blame a brother for caring.”

“We’re just curious, Eliot,” Sophie says.

“Don’t be,” he says. “We have a case?”

Nate eyes him for a moment then nods. “Yeah, Hardison’s about to run it.”

Eliot plops down into a seat at the table facing several large screens. They light up and everyone’s attention moves off of him and to the monitors.

Half way through Eliot realizes his cheeks _hurt_ , and it’s all because he’s been smiling the whole time.

-0-

John hovers by the door to the restaurant. Eliot’s late, again, but only by a few minutes. He wonders if this is a common occurrence with the man. He’s almost lost to the numbers by the time Eliot shows up. A glance at his phone tells John that Eliot’s only 12 minutes late.

He’s a little bit dazed when Eliot leans in and kisses him. “Hey,” he greets. “Sorry I’m late.”

It takes a while to get the numbers to go away, and Eliot’s staring at him with a small smile, and those blue eyes. John feels lucky that he manages a, “No problem.”

Eliot opens the door and ushers John inside. It’s nowhere fancy, a semi-casual restaurant that serves pretty good food. It smells good inside and John’s stomach rumbles on cue.

They’re seated in a booth and it’s only then that John realizes he has to make some kind of conversation with Eliot. He’s not that good with people and especially not good with people who have no interest in numbers. He wonders if Eliot does.

“Do you like math?” John asks suddenly.

Eliot raises an eyebrow at him. “Math?”

“Numbers,” John says. “Equations.”

“I can add,” Eliot laughs. “And subtract. Never really needed much more than that.”

“Oh.”

John’s a little disappointed. He knows most people don’t see the world in numbers like he does. He didn’t really think Eliot did, but he can’t help feeling a little sad anyway.

“I like math,” Eliot says. “I just wasn’t very good at it.”

“Sometimes I get lost in the numbers,” John confesses. “Really lost. It annoys people.”

“You won’t get lost if I’m here,” Eliot tells him.

John almost thinks he believes him. They sit in silence as their drinks arrive. John plays with his straw and Eliot has an amused look on his face, it’s patient, though.

“I’m not sure what to say,” John finally admits. “I’m not good with people.”

“You’ll get better.”

“Should we be talking?”

Eliot shrugs. “If you want.”

John rolls his straw across the table. “Favorite color?”

Eliot shoots him a weird look but answers anyway. “Grey.”

“Band?”

“Hank Williams,” Eliot says. “Johnny Cash.”

“You like country?” John asks in surprise. “I love Johnny Cash.”

“I know,” Eliot grins. “Saw the poster on your wall. Classic.”

“Is that the kind of music you play?” John questions. “Country?”

“Yep. Just me an’ my guitar.”

“Will you play for me sometime?”

Eliot’s face softens and a foot gently touches John. “Anytime you want, man.”

John grins and reaches for his straw again.

-0-

They end up back at John’s place again. Eliot helps himself to a beer, and hands a Bud back to John. They sit on the couch and drink while talking softly. John learns that Eliot likes Star Trek, but not Star Wars. He likes to grow his own food, and he knows three languages other than English.

Everything that John learns about him only makes him want the other man more. He wonders if it’s the same for Eliot. Probably not. John’s not all that interesting at all. When their beers are empty, Eliot leans in again.

This time, John’s prepared for the kiss.

-0-

A month after their first date, John starts to feel a little more secure in their relationship. Sure, he hasn’t met any of the friends that Eliot was with at the bar, or his co-workers, who John thinks, but isn’t sure, might be the same people. He still hasn’t been to Eliot’s place, and they still haven’t gone further than they did that first night.

He starts to wonder what it all means.

On one hand, it’s still early. A month is hardly long enough to know someone _that_ well, no matter how many tiny conversations you share over pancakes. Or how well acquainted your mouth is with their dick.

Even though Eliot knows a lot about John, it doesn’t mean that John’s more invested. It just means that Eliot is more cautious than John is. Maybe.

John’s starting to think there are things about Eliot, big things, that he doesn’t know. Eliot occasionally shows up with bruises, split lips and knuckles, with a myriad of other small injuries. John’s taken to keeping ice packs in his freezer just for the other man. He now has a fully stocked first aid kit and knowledge of exactly what butterfly bandaids are for.

John never asks, though. He doesn’t say anything when Eliot winces in pain, or when he goes straight for an ice pack. He’s not sure if he should, but he knows that every time he’s quiet, he gets a small, thankful look from Eliot. John doesn’t want to be another person in Eliot’s life that he has to lie to, to explain things to. Really, he’s just happy to be another person in Eliot’s life.

“Thinking too much,” Eliot says. He rolls over and plasters himself to John’s back. His hand rubs at John’s stomach, in soothing circular motions. “More numbers?”

Eliot gets the numbers. He might not _get_ the numbers, but he _gets the numbers_. He gets John. He understands that this is John’s world, his life. The numbers are everywhere, and when John points them out and explains them, Eliot’s eyes don’t glaze over, they take on an interested look, as though he’s actually listening, even if he isn’t.

“No numbers,” John whispers. “Just…thoughts.”

“Happy thoughts?”

“Tell me about your friends again,” John requests. He hasn’t met them, and it’s okay if he doesn’t, but he likes to hear Eliot talk about them. John’s always wanted friends.

Eliot kisses John’s bare shoulder. “Then you’ll sleep?”

“I’m not a little kid,” John scoffs.

“Yes, but you get cranky with too little sleep,” Eliot says knowingly.

John makes a face, even though Eliot can’t see it. “Fine.”

“There’s Hardison,” Eliot says. His voice is a mixture of annoyance and fondness. It usually is when he’s talking about his friends. “He can do anything with a computer. He probably knows more about me than I do, or he would if there wasn’t a ban on inter-team research. Anyway, he’s good with technology, you know? He’s a little out there, mostly crazy, but he’s a good kid.”

John smiles. “He’s only a few years younger than you.”

“He’s five years younger than me, with less than half the life experience,” Eliot argues. “I bet he still thinks there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

John laughs softly. “Maybe there is.”

“Don’t start,” Eliot groans. “So after him, there’s Parker.”

“The one I saw at the pub.”

“Yep. She’s…most of the time I’m convinced she’s an alien. She’s terrible with people and really likes money.”

“Me and her have something in common.”

“If I walk in on you sniffing money, Sheppard, we’re over,” Eliot threatens without heat.

John sighs. “You’re so demanding.”

Eliot gently slaps John’s stomach. “Then there’s Sophie. She’s British, and a terrible actress. She doesn’t know that, though.”

“They rarely do,” John agrees.

“And finally Nate,” Eliot says, half resigned.

John knows that Nate is sort of a role model to Eliot, a close confidante. He also knows that Nate’s a burgeoning alcoholic, and that Eliot worries about him constantly. John thinks if anyone has a right to drown their sorrows in alcohol, it’s probably someone who first lost a child, and then his wife.

“You should talk to him,” John murmurs.

Eliot sighs. “I have. Sophie has. I think even Hardison tried, it’s just…you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Are they…you work with them, right, Eliot?”

Eliot’s quiet for a second, before he says, “Yeah. They work at my Leverage firm.”

“Is that how you met them?”

“Yeah. We all did a job with Nate and then decided to stay on.”

“They sound nice,” John says with a yawn.

“They are,” Eliot agrees. He kisses John’s shoulder again. “Goodnight, J.”

“’Night, Eliot.”

-0-

“When do we get to meet him?”

Eliot glares at Parker as he flips an omelet out onto a plate for her. “You don’t.”

She swings her legs as she sits on his counter. Her and Hardison spent the night at his house, for reasons Eliot isn’t sure of, so he’s making them breakfast. Or her breakfast, as Hardison is still sleeping.

“Hardison says he’s pretty.”

Eliot sprinkles some cheese on top of her omelet and slides the plate to her. “How does he even know who I’m dating?”

“He looked him up,” Parker answers cheerfully. “Got his number off your phone and ran background.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Eliot growls. “John is off-limits.”

Hardison picks that moment to wander into the kitchen. “Mornin’, y’all.”

“Did you run a background check on John?” Eliot demands.

Hardison blinks sleepily. “What? Yeah. Of course, man. Standard protocol.”

“It is _not_ standard protocol,” Eliot says. “Just because you do it and then say it is, doesn’t make it standard protocol.”

“It’s not?” Hardison blinks.

“ _No_.”

“Uh, my bad, man,” he apologizes. “I thought we did it for all significant others.”

“First of all,” Eliot begins. “John is _not_ my significant other, we’re dating. Second of all, who else have you done this for?”

Hardison scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, no one. You’re the first person to get a significant--” Eliot glares at him. “-- _paramour_ since we all hooked up.”

“Damn it, Hardison, you can’t just go digging around in someone’s life like that.“ He pauses. “And he is _not_ a paramour.”

Hardison shrugs. “Whatever, dude. Hey are there more eggs?”

While he cooks Hardison an omelet, too, Eliot can’t help but ask, “So did you find anything?”

“Hmm?” Hardison asks. He’s sitting at the table, now, with Parker. He has the comics, and Parker is going through the financial section. Eliot’s only a little bit troubled by that.

“On John.”

Hardison grins. “Nah, man, your guy is safe. Not even a parking ticket. He did some work with the Air Force a while back, but it looks like he’s a free agent again. Although why he wastes his time working at a college, I’ll never know. If I had his kind of money, I’d be living in the Bahamas or something.”

“Money?” Eliot asks with a frown. John doesn’t exactly scream money, from his department store clothes, to his tiny, cramped apartment.

“Yeah, man, he’s loaded. Not as well off as us, but he could have retired years ago and still live like Paris Hilton.”

“Where’d he get it from?” Eliot asks, adding some ham to the omelet.

“A lot of it’s family money,” Hardison informs him. “He got it when his parents passed away when he was twenty or so. But he has money in his own right, too. Your guy is, like, famous or something in the math world. He’s written books and stuff.”

Eliot slides Hardison’s omelet onto a plate and hands it over. He starts up a third one for himself. “Anything else?”

Hardison frowns in concentration. “Not really. The guy’s a classic loner. I think the only number he’s called outside of yours in the past month has been to take-out places.”

Something inside of Eliot aches a little at the thought of John so alone. John’s a little bit awkward, and gets lost in his own head all of the time, but he’s a good person, though, and Eliot honestly doesn’t know why people wouldn’t want to hang out with him. He knows he’d rather be with John, eating pancakes, than here with Hardison and Parker, watching them fight over what’s left of the orange juice.

Eliot sighs and grabs the bottle out of Parker’s hand. “You can both have water.”

Parker pouts and Hardison shakes his head. “Not cool, yo, not cool.”

“If you want orange juice, you can get it at your own damn apartment,” Eliot growls. “You should feel lucky I’m even feeding you.”

Parker perks up. “Do you feed John?”

Eliot glares at her. “What we _do_ , is none of your business, Parker. Eat your eggs.”

“But--”

“ _Eggs_.”

-0-

John’s never been in a truck before. Before Eliot, that is. Eliot has a huge Chevy Silverado pick-up truck, much larger than John’s beat up old Camaro.

He’s waiting out front when Eliot pulls up. Eliot reaches across the cab and opens the door for him, giving it a small push. John catches it in his hand and climbs in. The door closes heavily next to him and John buckles his seat belt. Eliot’s still leaning towards him and it’s easy for John to turn his head and brush their lips together.

Eliot’s hand digs into John’s hair as he deepens the kiss. “Mmm,” he says as he pulls back. “You taste good.”

John grins. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

Eliot laughs and kisses him again, quick and sweet, before he straightens back up. He puts his truck into drive and they take off.

It’s Friday night, and John usually spends it reading, but Eliot asked him if he wanted to go camping for a weekend. John’s never been camping, but so many people do it that he thinks it can’t be that bad. So he said yes.

It takes a couple of hours to get there, and John can’t remember the last time they passed something that resembled civilization. He’s starting to worry a little bit, but Eliot’s humming and singing along to a CD he has playing. He looks so happy that John doesn’t want to say anything that might break the spell.

Eliot pulls off the highway and they go down a dirt road. It’s already dark, and John’s cold and wishing he knew more about what was about to happen. Eliot stops in a small clearing surrounded by trees. He leans in for another kiss and John tries not to cling to him too tightly.

Eliot sets up the tent while John blows up the air mattress. He’s starting to think that he’s really not cut out for the outdoors and Eliot’s going to be laughing at him by the end of the weekend, but John swallows his discomfort and carries the mattress over to the tent. When he’s finished pushing it in, John stands there, just staring at the thing he’s going to be sleeping in.

He wraps his arms around his middle as he contemplates how fragile the whole structure seems. Warm arms come around him from behind and a chin lands on his shoulder. Eliot’s a couple of inches shorter than John, but he usually gains an inch with his boots, so John hardly notices it.

“How ya doin’?” His breath is warm on John’s cheek.

“Good,” John says. It comes out stronger than John would have thought, and he’s glad for small mercies.

“I know this isn’t your usual thing,” Eliot says softly. “So thank you for coming out here, John.”

John turns, and Eliot’s arms go from his stomach to his back. He smiles at the other man, pushing some of Eliot’s hair out of his face. “You’re welcome.” The kiss is soft and sweet and leaves John aching for more without the words to ask.

They’re both smiling as they pull back. “Hot chocolate?” Eliot asks.

John nods. “Sure.”

John hasn’t had hot chocolate in years, not since he discovered coffee, but it’s as good as he remembers it being. They’re sitting on the tailgate of Eliot’s truck and John thinks this is some kind of moment. One of those moments that he’ll remember as being important, even though he’s not sure why.

There are no numbers, and there haven’t been since he climbed into Eliot’s truck, and John thinks that’s somehow significant. He’s not sure if it’s a good or a bad sign, numbers are as important as the air he breathes, but with Eliot…with Eliot there are other things he’d rather think about.

“Penny,” Eliot offers.

John drinks some more hot chocolate and shrugs. “This is nice.”

“Yeah?” Eliot asks with skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah,” John confirms. “It’s quiet.”

“Peaceful,” the other man agrees. They wait until their hot chocolate is gone to lay back and gaze up at the stars. John’s pressed tight against Eliot’s side and they’re sharing a blanket and a pillow.

“Tell me a secret,” John whispers.

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

Silence stretches out between them. John can hear crickets in the distance and some leaves being rustled by the wind and small animals. Eliot’s hand is absently stroking up and down John’s arm, and it keeps making him shiver.

“I don’t want you to think less of me,” Eliot says finally. “I’ve done some… I’ve done some terrible things, John. I’m not proud of them, but I can’t change them either. I’m trying, though, to fight the good fight. I can’t make it all right, but I can try and help others.”

John reaches out and grabs Eliot’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “We’ve all done bad things, Eliot.”

“Some more than others.”

“Yeah,” John agrees. “Some more than others. Maybe someday you can tell me about yours, and I’ll tell you about mine.”

“Deal,” Eliot says. “It’s your turn to tell me a secret.”

John thinks the thing about secrets, the thing that make them so heavy in someone’s soul, is that once you tell them to someone, you lose them forever. Even if two people know it, it’s not a secret. John’s never had someone to share his secrets with. He thought he did, once, but they never made it that far. His secrets have always been his own.

He takes a deep breath. “The last thing I told my father was that I hated him. He died two days later.”

John waits for the _I’m sure he knew you didn’t_ , but it doesn’t come. Eliot squeezes his hand tightly and says, “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” John whispers.

They fall quiet after that, and John thinks camping might not be so bad after all.

-0-

When Eliot gets back to his house on Sunday night, he feels good. Happy. Things he hasn’t felt in a long time. And spending time with just John was amazing. No books, no numbers, no phones, no Hardison. He knows lots of little things about John now, some surprising, some not.

He knows that John was on the football team in high school, before graduating at fifteen. He knows that John loves making paper airplanes and misses living by the ocean so he can surf. He knows that John’s family owned horses, and that John could ride one before he could ride a bike. The knowledge makes Eliot want to buy horses just so he can see John on one. Just so they can go riding together. As it is, he plans to track down a ranch and drag John out to it.

Eliot also learned that something happened to John. In the growing timeline of John’s life that he keeps in his head, there are two important points--one is when John’s parents died, and the other is an unknown event that happened after his parents’ death but before he met Eliot. He’s almost sure that it’s John relationship with whomever told him he was bad at sex. It was the person who put a look of fear into John’s eyes, a look of worthlessness.

Eliot can imagine a happier John, more carefree, with less numbers. He sees glimpses of him in the things they do together, and he thinks that’s the real John. That’s the John hiding inside somewhere, too scared to come out.

He wants to hurt whomever did this to John. He wants to make them pay and keep on paying. But more than that, he wants John to always smile, to always be _here_ and not off in his head.

It scares him, thinking in terms of _always_. _Always_ leads to _forever_ and Eliot knows that nothing is forever. Not smiles, not relationships, not life.

He stows his camping equipment in the shed behind his house and checks on his vegetables, making sure Hardison remembered to water them.

He heads inside and collapses down on the couch wondering what the fuck he’s doing with John. Eliot swore off relationships after the disaster with Aimee. He was committed, back then, to the US government. Now he’s committed to his team. John hasn’t asked about the bruises and the cuts, but Eliot just figures it a matter of time. He likes John, but he’s not sure he can trust him, not yet. But he wants to. God, does he want to.

-0-

It’s been three months and they still haven’t done _it_ , which is the longest John’s even been in a relationship without having actual sex. He starts to think that Eliot took his warning to heart, that he’s bad in bed, and so now all they do is blow each other all the time, everywhere. Last week Eliot blew John in his office at school.

He wants to bring it up, but he’s really not sure how. Eliot already knows he’s terrible at it, and if John were to say something, well, that’d only remind the other man of John’s failings in bed.

But, still. Three months.

John hasn’t fully dismissed the idea that Eliot’s waiting…for marriage. At the start of this all, he’d been one hundred percent positive that Eliot had had sex, now he’s not so sure. It’s a ridiculous idea, one that even John can recognize as having very little merit, but it keeps floating around in his head. It makes him feel a little better if he thinks that it might not be him. It probably is though.

“Hey,” Eliot says, flicking the side of John’s head softly. “Stop thinking.”

John shakes his head and lets the thoughts float away. He’s in the middle of blowing Eliot against the door, but his mind sort of wandered off. “Sorry,” John mumbles.

Eliot’s hand rests heavy on the back of John’s neck. “Everything good?”

John nods and opens his mouth, swallowing Eliot down. Blow jobs are John’s new favorite thing.

-0-

After the fifth time John gets lost in his thoughts while they’re spending naked, or almost naked, time together, Eliot realizes that something is up. Sure John often gets lost in his thoughts when Eliot isn’t getting to third base, but lately it’s been carrying over into their sex life, too. Something’s definitely wrong.

Eliot’s pretty sure he knows what it is.

“John,” he murmurs. He pokes John’s side to see if he’s still awake.

John makes a tired noise but turns over so he can face Eliot. His eyes are closed when he asks, “Hmm?”

Eliot’s really wishing he’d had more than one beer earlier. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

“’liot,” John mumbles. “Wh’s n’t you?”

“The reason we haven’t had sex yet.”

John opens an eye at that. “Am I dreaming?”

Eliot pinches one of John’s nipples. “Does that hurt?”

“Yes, you fucker,” John curses, batting Eliot’s hand away.

“Not dreaming then,” Eliot concludes.

John clears his throat. “So we’re not having sex because…you don’t want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Eliot exhales _. It’s that I want you to know that I’ve killed people. That I beat up people for a living. That I’m a thief and a millionaire and I do illegal things daily_. “I just need some more time.”

John makes a small noise that Eliot can’t interpret. “But you’ve had sex before, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Just…it’s different with me?” John asks in a small voice.

“Exactly,” Eliot nods.

“Oh.”

He can hear the crushed tone in John’s voice, and can just make out his expression in the darkness. John looks like someone killed his puppy, and that that someone is Eliot.

“Damn it, John,” Eliot sighs. “It’s not like that.”

“Okay.”

“I just need more time.”

“Okay,” John says quietly.

Eliot rubs a hand down John’s side, over his bare hip, landing it on his thigh. “I want this, John. I promise.” He leans in and kisses John, softly at first. Then John’s rolling on top of him and Eliot tries to say with every touch, what he can’t say with words.

-0-

When John wakes up, he can tell it’s going to be one of those gloomy sort of days; the kind of day that threatens to rain, but never follows through. He sighs. On days like these his students are usually sleepy and sedate; John’s lucky if he can get more than a couple of people to answer questions.

He hasn’t seen Eliot in a week, he’s been away on business. It’s not the first time he’s been gone, but it’s the longest time since they started dating five months previous. Neither of them are really talkative enough to call the other, but Eliot’s sent a text saying goodnight every night that he’s been gone.

John thinks the other man is somewhere on the east coast, but he isn’t positive, it falls under the _don’t ask, don’t tell_ policy they never talk about.

His morning routine is a lot shorter when Eliot isn’t around. John has a _Poptart_ for breakfast instead of cooking, and he grabs a can of _Diet Coke_ to go with it.

He arrives at work early and cleans up his office a little bit. His first class is all doctoral students, and they’ll meet in his office in half an hour. There’s some whiteboards and chairs that John re-arranges before they come. His eye catches on a half-solved equation from the day before and before he can stop himself, he’s picking up a dry erase marker and losing himself to the numbers.

Someone behind him clears their throat. “Professor?”

John turns to find all seven of his doctoral students sitting, watching him work. He shakes his head and tries to lose the numbers again. He recaps his marker and sets it down. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem, Dr. Sheppard,” Jill, one of his favorite students, answers. He’s been her advisor for three years, and John loves the way her mind works.

“So,” John says. “Where were we?”

-0-

Eliot’s frustrated. And what’s worse is that everyone knows why he’s frustrated and they keep giving him sympathetic looks, as though that makes it better. It doesn’t.

They’re in the middle of a con that took four days to set up, and would take close to two weeks to execute. When they’d been planning it, Eliot hadn’t realized how much he’d actually miss John.

As it is, he normally only sees the man three or four times a week, sometimes less, sometimes more, but that’s the norm. Now, though, his hotel bed seems large and empty, and he keeps reaching for the phone because sometime between last seeing John and now, he’s turned into a giant girl and really wants to hear John’s voice. He settles for a text every night.

By night ten, he can’t take it anymore. It’s close to nine at night, John’s time, when Eliot calls him.

John picks up on the first ring. “ _Eliot_ ,” he breathes.

Eliot lets John’s voice wash over him. “John.”

There’s a few seconds where all they do is listen to each other breathe and fuck, if it isn’t the most reassuring thing Eliot’s heard in ten days.

“ _How are you?_ ” John whispers. In the background he can hear John moving, imagines him closing his book and setting it aside. He hears the click of the light as John moves from the living room to his bed room. There’s a rustle of blankets as John climbs into bed.

“Good,” Eliot answers quietly. “You?”

“ _It’s been raining_ ,” John says. “ _Kids are sleepy_.”

Eliot smiles. “Yeah?”

“ _And they track water all over_ ,” John adds. “ _I wish they would learn to wipe their feet_.”

“Kids these days,” Eliot quips. John laughs and Eliot knows it’s because Eliot’s not much older than most of John’s students, he’s actually younger than a couple of John’s grad students.

“ _You always wipe your feet_ ,” John tells him.

“That’s because my momma raised me right.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” John agrees. “ _She did_.”

Eliot wonders if John would still think that if he knows that Eliot’s killed people. His chest aches a little at the thought. “What else have you been doin’?”

“ _Not much. I think one of my students gave me their cold_.”

Eliot frowns. “You don’t sound sick.”

“ _Call me tomorrow_ ,” John assures him. “ _Right now it all kind of aches. I have four classes tomorrow, too. It’s really gonna suck_.”

“You don’t get sick days?” Eliot asks in bemusement.

“ _We do, but it’s really close to finals_ ,” John tells him. “ _I’ve had almost every student in my office at one point this week. I’ve added on office hours to try and help them more. I really need to be there_.”

“At the risk to your health?”

“ _I’ll drink one of those wheatgrass shots from_ Jamba Juice _that you like so much_ ,” John said and Eliot could hear the implied _even though I think they’re gross_.

“Get two.”

“ _We’ll see_ ,” John says, noncommittally. “ _So…have you done the touristy thing? For wherever you are? You should send me a postcard or something. Bring me back one of those cheesy mugs_.”

It’s the closest John’s ever gotten to asking Eliot specifics about his job, but he still manages to make it sound as though he doesn’t really care where Eliot is, he just wants to know a little about what he’s been doing. “We’re in New York,” Eliot says finally. “I’ve done the touristy thing before, so I’ve mostly stayed in when I’m not working.”

“ _Cupcakes_.”

Eliot frowns. “What?”

“ _Some of the best cupcakes in the world are in New York. Magnolia’s Bakery_ ,” John says urgently. “ _Bring me back some cupcakes_.”

“You want me to travel across the country with cupcakes?”

“ _Yeah. How many can you carry onto the plane, do you think_?” John asks seriously. He mumbles some numbers and Eliot knows he’s doing the calculations for carry-on luggage vs. the probable dimensions of a cupcake box.

Eliot rubs his forehead. “John--”

“ _Thirty six_ ,” John blurts out. “ _That’s a lot of cupcakes, and kind of expensive. I can pay you back_.”

There’s a pleading note in John’s voice, just like the time he’d asked Eliot to stop and get some dinner on the way to his place. John doesn’t ask for much, and considering everything else he doesn’t ask--“I’ll see what I can do,” Eliot sighs.

“ _Thank you, Eliot_ ,” John says, and Eliot can hear the smile in his voice. Eliot resigns himself to carrying a shitload of cupcakes through security back to Colorado Springs.

“Anything else new?” Eliot asks. “Other than this hidden love of cupcakes.”

John hums for a moment. “ _A paper I wrote was just accepted for publication_ ,” he shares.

“Yeah? That’s really great. Do I get to read it?”

 __

“…You want to read it?”

  


“Sure.”

“ _It’s all math_ ,” John warns him.

“I do know you, John. I didn’t think you had a paper published on the color of unicorn horns,” Eliot grins.

“ _Oh. Uh, yeah, you can read it. I have a copy at my place, the journal sent an advance_.”

“I look forward to it.” Eliot reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp, climbing into bed. He lays down and listens to John breathe, wondering when this became his life. Wondering when he started not minding that this is his life. “Will you call me tomorrow?”

“ _I won’t be home until eight or so_ ,” John tells him. “ _Will that be too late for you?_ ”

“No, it works.”

“ _Cool_ ,” John says. “ _I’m, uh, I’m really glad you called, Eliot_.”

“Me, too.”

“ _So tomorrow?_ ”

“Tomorrow,” Eliot agrees. It’s dumb, and so fourth grade, but he waits for John to hang up before he lowers the phone from his ear.

-0-

John’s achy feeling has blossomed into a full blown cold by the time Eliot‘s scheduled to return. He’s been dosing up on _Sudafed_ all week, until eventually he can’t summon the energy to drive himself in. He has two of his grad students hand out finals to his upper division classes and calls the Head of the Math Department to administer finals to his grad students.

He had a couple of days of feeling so-so, before everything became miserable. So now he’s stuck in bed with a box of tissues and enough medicine to knock him out cold.

When he wakes up again, he can hear noises coming from the kitchen and John can’t help but think that if someone’s there to rob him, they’re going to be disappointed, and if they’re there to kill him, then can they please put him out of his misery now?

He stumbles out of bed and staggers to the door, holding onto the wall for support. He makes his way into the living room before almost falling into the kitchen. Two warm hands catch him and John looks up to see Eliot standing before him, pink boxes all over the counters.

Eliot frowns when he sees him and puts a hand against John’s forehead. “God, you’re burning up. What are you doing out of bed?”

“Heard someone,” John rasps. “Came to look.”

“So if you were getting robbed, then what?” Eliot asks as he directs John back to the bedroom.

“Hadn’t thought that far,” John answers. “Maybe cough on them and hope revenge is taken eventually?”

Eliot snorts as he gently sets John back down. “Stay.”

“’m not a dog,” John mumbles as Eliot pulls the blankets up over him.

Eliot kisses his forehead. “I’m going to try and fit all of those cupcakes into your fridge. I’ll be back when I’m finished, okay?”

John nods weakly. “Okay.”

“It means you have to let go of my shirt,” Eliot says kindly.

John looks down, and sure enough, his hand is gripping the bottom of Eliot’s shirt tightly. “Sorry.” He lets go and his hand falls back to the bed.

“It’s fine.” Eliot offers him a look. “Stay.”

So John stays. And when Eliot comes back, he has the journal with John’s article, a glass of orange juice, and his reading glasses. He plops himself down on top of John’s blankets, sitting up against the headboard next to him.

“You gonna explain this to me?” he asks, gesturing to the journal. “Or am I gonna have to figure it all out by myself.”

John smiles. “Yeah, I’ll explain it.”

“Good,” Eliot says. He opens the journal up and John listens as he reads, answering questions along the way.

-0-

It’s almost Christmas, and usually John gets drunk and gets laid to celebrate Jesus’s birthday. This year he has Eliot, so the getting laid part isn’t really an option, although he’s pretty sure that Eliot’s up for exchanging blow jobs, if not gifts. The drunk part is still an option, though, and John’s second favorite place to drink, second to McRory’s that is, has been boasting an _Open For Christmas_ sign for the past two months.

John can’t imagine that Eliot’s much of a Christmas guy, at least not anymore than John himself is. Eliot hadn’t even mentioned Thanksgiving other than to say something in passing about some good football.

It’s also getting to the point where their lack of sex is really starting to freak John out, it’s almost to where he can’t even think about it without wanting to lose himself to the numbers for good. Eliot keeps saying it’s not John, but after eight months, it’s kind of hard to believe that anymore.

Another thing that eats away at him, is that they never said they were exclusive. For all John knows, Eliot may be out getting off somewhere else, having sex with someone who isn’t John. Parker, he thinks, or maybe Hardison. For as often as Eliot talks about them, John thinks there might be something going on there.

It scares him, sometimes, how much he cares for Eliot, considering how little he actually knows about the other man. John knows more about most of his grad students than he does about the man he’s been dating for three-fourths of a year.

He’s not really the ultimatum type, though, and god knows there aren’t people beating down his door to date him, so John takes what he can get and lies to himself that it’s enough.

-0-

It’s Nate who says something first. Eliot had thought that Sophie would be the first to break, but it’s Nate.

Nate pulls him aside and tells him that they’re getting drinks together tonight. Eliot stares at him, but nods, because, yeah, even he can see he needs to talk to someone, he just didn’t want to have to ask.

Which is how he finds himself in McRory’s with Nate, nursing a beer and thinking about John.

“Alright,” Nate says, downing the rest of his whiskey. “What’s eating you?”

Eliot swallows down half his beer before answering, “John and I still haven’t…you know.”

Nate raises an eyebrow at him. “John?”

Eliot rolls his eyes. “Cut the crap, Nate. You all know I’ve been dating someone.”

“We didn’t all know that it’s a _he_.”

“Is that gonna be a problem?” Eliot asks darkly.

Nate holds his hands up in surrender. “No problem.” He spins his empty whiskey glass around. “So, you haven’t done it. Why not?”

“He deserves more.”

“More than what? What, are you waiting for him to realize that and dump you? What’s that have to do with getting laid?”

“Yes! No! I just… I don’t know.” Eliot says, shaking his head. “John’s different, you know, there’s something about him that makes me want to treat him better.”

“And you think withholding sex is the way to go?” Nate asks skeptically.

“I think that I haven’t wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with him, in a long time. And I’ve fallen into bed with so many people, that I wanted to make sure John knows he’s different…special. I think I may have fucked everything up, Nate.”

“So what’s stopping you now?”

Eliot looks up from his beer. “Huh?”

“You know you like him, and he seems to be sticking around, so what’s stopping you? Is he really ugly or something?”

“What? No!” Eliot glares. “And even if he was, that’s not the point.”

Nate shrugs. “So _you_ want to…and I presume _he_ wants to…?” Eliot nods. “So what are you waiting for?”

Eliot knows what he’s waiting for. It’s unfair, really, to wait for the words, to expect John to give him everything when Eliot’s given him so little.

“Ah,” Nate says knowingly. “I see.”

“No, you don’t see,” Eliot growls. He downs the rest of his beer and sets the glass down hard. “I won’t lie to him. I’ve been there, done that, and it never ends well. But keeping secrets is… Everything’s a secret--what I do, what I’ve done. John never asks questions, but I want to answer him anyway. I want him to know things, I want to tell him things, but they’re not just my secrets anymore.”

“You’re over-thinking this, Eliot,” Nate says gently. He reaches out a hand and gently rests it on top of Eliot’s. “I don’t care if you tell him about what we do, and I doubt the others will either. If you trust him, Eliot, then you should tell him. _We_ trust _you_ to know if John’s the kind of person who will be able to deal with it all or not. And if the man has put up with you for so long, without sex, then he seems like a keeper,” Nate finishes with a wink.

Eliot makes a face. “Just so we’re clear, we are never discussing my sex life again.”

“Couldn’t be clearer.”

-0-

Eliot fumbles in the darkness for the right key to open John’s door. John had left it for him on the counter one morning, next to a cup of coffee. Eliot had slipped it onto his key ring and that had been that. There hadn’t been any accusing stares or unsubtle comments about John never having been to Eliot’s place. Just the key and some coffee.

The door opens before he manages to find the right one, and Eliot makes a mental note to change the light bulb over John’s door, because it had stopped working months ago, but John either didn’t seem to mind or didn’t seem to care.

John’s standing in the doorway, hair sticking every which way, looking cold in boxer shorts and a hoodie.

“Where are your pants?” Eliot asks, pushing past John into the room.

John shuts and locks the door behind him. “I forgot to do laundry,” he says sheepishly.

Eliot sets his bags of groceries on the counter and reaches out to pull John in for a quick kiss. “Mmm.” He lets John go after a moment. “You really need to start remembering to wash your clothes.”

“I do remember…eventually,” John defends. “Most of the time.”

“Let me rephrase that: you need to remember before it’s too late.”

“I just don’t like doing laundry.”

“No one does.”

Eliot starts putting groceries away while John watches. He probably spends more time in John’s kitchen than John does, and half the gadgets in there Eliot had brought over. He wishes John’s place had more counter space, more room in the kitchen, more shelving, more everything. It’s tiny and cramped and Eliot often feels a little caged in when he’s over.

“I have food,” John says.

Eliot glances at the _food_ in John’s fridge; three pieces of cheese, half a loaf of bread, a six pack of Bud, and some coffee. He look back up and John. “Oh, really?”

“Soup,” John insists. “In the cupboard.”

When Eliot opens the cabinet, there are three cans of soup and a can of mixed vegetables there. It’s almost embarrassing. “I see.”

John flushes. “What? That’s what take-out is for.”

“It’s what grocery stores are for,” Eliot corrects him. “We’ll go tomorrow to get some stuff, I thought you’d have a bit more than this, so I didn’t buy everything.”

“Go where?”

“To the grocery store,” Eliot says with a roll of his eyes.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” John says dumbly. “Are the stores even open then?”

“Sure are,” Eliot tells him. He shoves the empty bags under John’s sink. “Wait,” he says, turning around. “You thought the stores were closed tomorrow, and probably the day after… and you were, what? Going to eat soup for two days?”

John shrugs. “Why not? I like soup.”

“Even if you had enough soup for two days, which you don’t, soup is not a meal,” Eliot says with a slight glare. “It’s a starter course.” John stares at him as though he can’t comprehend any of the words Eliot’s saying. “And what about me?” Eliot continues. “You barely have enough food for one person, for one day.”

“I didn’t know you were coming over…you can have the soup.”

“It’s not about the soup!”

John has that look in his eyes, the look that says he’s lost and doesn’t understand something and _would you please start speaking in numbers now_. Eliot sighs and steps forward, hooking his fingers into the front of John’s boxers to pull the other man to him. John moves stiffly and he shivers as he steps into Eliot’s arms.

“I bought chicken,” Eliot says. “And some duck for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“…Christmas?”

“Oh.” John doesn’t sound disappointed or annoyed, it’s more like confusion mixed with surprise, and Eliot doesn’t like what that says John thinks about him.

“You’re not busy are you?”

John shakes his head, but something flashes in his eyes, too quick for Eliot to discern. “No.”

There’s something there, something that John’s not saying, but Eliot won’t ask until later, when he can get quiet answers out of John, full of honesty. “My bag’s in the car, and I have a few more groceries… Help me carry them in?” Eliot asks. John offers him a raised eyebrow and gestures down to his boxers. Eliot laughs, “Right.”

It takes two more trips to get all of the bags in and John’s apartment is freezing by the time they finish. Eliot wishes they were at his house, he has a pretty good sized chimney, big enough to warm most of the rooms; _sometimes_ the central heat works in John’s apartment, mostly not.

They’re quiet as they put away groceries, and Eliot wonders if the gap he feels between them is all in his mind or really there. He can’t blame John for any of it, it’s all on him. He’s the one holding back. Eliot knows almost everything about John--favorite foods, the name of his fifth grade teacher, what toothpaste he uses. He’s not sure John could even name ten things about Eliot. And he wants him to, good lord, does he want him to. Eliot hasn’t ever had anyone who really knew him, but he wants to start with John.

“I like chocolate ice cream,” Eliot says. He winces a little because it seems he’s gotten John’s penchant for blurting things out.

John turns to him, confusion written across his face. “I know.”

“You do?” Eliot can’t remember ever telling him that.

“You ordered it at a restaurant on our eighteenth date,” John informs him. “And you said it was really good.”

Eliot feels warmth spread through his chest. John remembers their eighteenth date, he remembers what Eliot ordered, and filed it away. “What else do you know about me?”

John closes the fridge with a resounding thud and turns to look at him, eyes soft. He smiles, a small secret smile that Eliot loves. “I’ll tell you in bed. I’m freezing.”

Eliot shoves the rest of the food into John’s empty cabinets and follows him from the room. They turn off lights as they go and John huddles beneath the covers as Eliot strips down to his boxers. He slides in and wraps himself around John. It’s dark and quiet, and John is attempting to steal every last bit of body heat that Eliot has. He doesn’t mind at all.

“You like Calvin and Hobbes, and green apples,” John says into the night. “And you love cars and football. You watch hockey occasionally, but I don’t think you really like it. You hate beets and chives, but cook with them anyway. You like westerns and love sci-fi movies. You’ve had your heart broken once, but it’s not why you’re so…distant. I know that you’re beautiful, even though you feel dirty, tainted by things of the past. You’re a good person, Eliot, even if you don‘t think so.”

Eliot tightens his hold on John’s body and John unfolds himself to wrap himself around Eliot, holding him close. It’s easy to forget that John’s four years older, that he’s had all of this other life experience that Eliot hasn’t. Eliot lost himself somewhere between mines and Damien Moreau. He thinks he might be able to find himself in John.

“Can I tell you something?” Eliot whispers. He feels tears prick his eyes and knows that there’s no going back.

“Anything,” John promises.

“I’ve killed people,” Eliot breathes. “I’ve hurt people, and stolen things, and lied, cheated, and bribed my way into places. I did it for money, John. For money and because I couldn’t stop. I’m wanted in five countries, there’s a price on my head in another three. I break the law almost daily. I’m dangerous; I know twenty-six ways to kill someone with just my hands.” He breathes out. “You’re so much better than me, John. So _perfect_.”

“I love you.”

Eliot stills. “What?”

“I love you,” John repeats.

“John, don’t--”

“Too late,” John tells him confidently.

“I…too,” Eliot manages. “You.”

John presses a warm kiss to his lips and Eliot reaches out to take his face between his hands. He kisses him soundly. When they pull back, John doesn’t press for more, just re-wraps himself around Eliot.

“What are you going to do?” Eliot whispers.

“ _We’_ re going to keep going,” John answers. “And I’ll be here to listen, whenever you want to talk. I’m sort of interested in knowing what it is _Leverage_ does.”

Eliot laughs softly, raking his fingers though John’s hair. “We basically steal things from rich people to give to the poor.”

“Tell me,” John requests softly.

So Eliot does.

-0-

On Christmas morning, John sleeps in. Or he tries to at least. Eliot’s making noises in the kitchen and John smells coffee. He really needs to bring his boyfriend in on The Christmas Day Plan of sleeping a lot, doing math, and then getting drunk, but Eliot’s been excited about his duck and crudités and other things John can’t pronounce, so he hasn’t said anything. Yet.

He pads out of the bedroom, snagging Eliot’s sweatshirt along the way and slipping his arms into it. When he rounds the corner, he’s assaulted with various smells, one of them bacon. John’s stomach rumbles and his hunger fights with his annoyance at being woken up so early.

John walks over to the kitchen and stands just outside of it. He wraps his arms around his stomach and watches as Eliot stirs with one hand and chops with the other. There’s a towel on his shoulder and a bandana on his head. He looks completely adorable. When he spots John a goofy grin breaks out over his face and he beckons John closer with his spoon.

John eyes the stove and carefully makes his way to Eliot. Eliot pulls him in for a kiss, closed mouth because John has yet to brush his teeth.

“It’s seven in the morning,” John rasps. “Come back to bed.”

Eliot shakes his head. “I have to get this duck in the oven.”

“Put it in later,’ John says, tugging on Eliot’s shirt. “It’s so early.”

“John…”

“Duck only takes four hours to cook, I saw it on _Food Network_ ,” John says. Eliot looks slightly guilty at that. “If you put it in now, it’ll be lunch.” He tugs on Eliot’s shirt again. “Come warm me up again.”

“I want everything to be perfect,” Eliot says quietly.

“It will be,” John promises. “And it will also still be here in a few hours.”

Eliot looks back at the duck on the counter, the bacon in the frying pan, and then at John. He sighs. “Okay.”

John grins. “Need help?”

“I’ve got it,” Eliot says. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

John leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Eliot’s already in bed when John finishes. He’s about to climb in when Eliot says, “Sweatshirt.”

John wrinkles his forehead before realizing what he means and he peels out of Eliot’s sweatshirt, replacing it on a chair by the door. He quickly slides under the covers and huddles close to Eliot. Eliot produces a lot of body heat, way more than John, and John uses that to his advantage as much as possible.

“I see,” Eliot laughs. “You need to get your heater fixed, John.”

“I poked it a few days ago,” John admits.

“And?”

“It shocked me.”

Eliot sighs. “Like it has the last three times you tried to fix it?”

“… Yeah.”

“I’ll take a look at it later. If I can’t figure out, we’ll call Hardison.”

“He can fix things like that?”

“Yeah.”

John yawns and pats Eliot on the chest. “Stay.”

“’m not a dog,” Eliot says without heat, but John can barely hear him as he slips back to sleep.

-0-

When he wakes up again, Eliot’s still there, but the apartment smells even more like food, so Eliot’s probably been back and forth. A hand strokes his hair and John’s tempted to fall back asleep. He opens one eye and sees Eliot holding a book in his other hand, thoroughly engrossed.

“What are you reading?” John whispers.

Eliot doesn’t startle, he never startles, and John supposes it’s probably due to his line of work. “A book on math.” He turns his hand so John can read the title and he’s a little embarrassed to see his name as the author.

“I have other books.”

“I want to read this one.”

John smiles a little at that. “How is it so far?”

“Good,” Eliot says. “You explain things well.”

John bites his bottom lip. “Yeah?”

Eliot slips a receipt into the book before shutting it and setting it aside. He slinks down under the covers and turns to look at John. “Definitely,” he answers. Then he’s leaning in.

John thinks he could kiss Eliot forever, and wryly thinks that he might end up doing so. “You taste like chocolate,” he remarks as he pulls back.

“Was making dessert,” Eliot answers.

“Pie?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait,” John smiles.

“There’s a couple more hours on the duck,” Eliot tells him. “I have to turn it over every hour. I have about fifty minutes until the next check-in…” He leans in and kisses John soundly.

“Mmm,” John murmurs. Eliot tugs on him a little until John rolls over onto him, his knees landing by Eliot’s hips. Eliot’s hands move down John’s back and slip under his boxers, cupping John’s ass, pressing him closer.

John moves them back and forth, rubbing their cocks together. He wants more, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. After Mike, John’s not sure how to ask for a lot of the things he wants; he’s a little scared to get them.

John breaks the kiss and moves down Eliot’s body. He drags the other man’s boxers off and carelessly tosses them aside. He swallows Eliot down in one go and stays like that for a moment, until Eliot’s hand worms its way into his hair, gripping it tightly, pulling at it--close to painful, but not quite.

“John,” he moans. “Fuck.” He tugs and John pulls up until just the tip is in his mouth. He swipes his tongue across it over and over, teasing him. Eliot pushes down hard and John takes him in again.

John’s been with rougher people, people who weren’t all that concerned about John--from what he was comfortable doing, to if he got off--but Eliot’s different. He’s rough, yes, but it’s never enough to make John think that if he wanted to stop, or if he said no, that Eliot wouldn’t listen. He trusts Eliot in a way he hasn’t trusted anyone else, other than Mike. He really hopes Eliot doesn’t end up like Mike.

He lets Eliot set the pace, pushing and pulling John’s head up and down his cock. When Eliot’s close, he holds John’s head in place and comes down the back of his throat. John chokes a little and swallows around Eliot’s dick.

“Fuck,” Eliot pants as he lets go of John’s hair. John slowly lets Eliot’s cock slip from his mouth, licking at it as he goes. “One of these days you’re gonna kill me with that. You know that, right?”

John grins and licks at his lips. “You can only hope so.”

Eliot laughs and John crawls back up him. He pushes his own boxers down so he can rub off against Eliot’s leg. John rests his head on Eliot’s shoulder as he moves. The wet finger that strokes down his crack takes him by surprise and his eyes fly open to Eliot’s face. Eliot meets his gaze as his finger circles John’s entrance.

John’s so close to begging. Instead, he bites down on his lip and buries his face back into Eliot’s chest. He wants this, he wants this so bad, but he’s waiting for Eliot, and John refuses to rush him.

The tip of Eliot’s finger presses inside and John comes all over both of them. It’s a little embarrassing, and John freezes a little to see if Eliot will do anything, but the other man just pulls his hands back and rests them heavily on John’s back.

John’s heart is racing and he isn’t sure what to expect so he loses himself back to the numbers, back to the place where answers are found.

“Don’t,” he can hear Eliot say. “John, please.”

But John needs this and he apologizes to Eliot as the math comes alive.

-0-

Since knowing John, Eliot’s seen the other man slip into four math comas, or at least that’s what Eliot calls them. John calls it beautiful. The first time, Eliot had been coming to pick John up for a date and found the front door open. He’d gone on alert and carefully stepped inside, only to find John sitting on the couch, staring at nothing.

No matter what he tried, John wouldn’t snap out of it. Eliot had honestly thought he might be having some kind of seizure. Then about an hour after Eliot arrived, John had snapped out it. He’d looked over at Eliot, confused about what he was doing there.

That was the first.

The three others that Eliot had been witness to had varied in lengths, anywhere from a couple of hours to over five. He’d been concerned, but John had waved it off. He’d apparently been doing it since his parents died, and since it didn’t bother anyone, and never started when John was with someone else, John didn’t see any reason to try and stop them. Eliot wants to stop them because they freak him the fuck out.

He wasn’t expecting one now, especially since John swore they never happened with other people in the room, but here they are, and Eliot’s definitely in the room.

He misses John already. Eliot rubs his hand along John’s side, pulling blankets up over them. “Hey, you probably can’t hear me, since you never seemed to before, but…it’s Christmas, so I figure I should at least try. I meant to ask you before what you’ve done in the past to celebrate the holiday…if you even celebrate it. Parker loves Christmas. I don’t know why, but, man, she really gets into it. She puts up a tree in the office and even hung up stockings with all of our names on them. I bet it’ll still be there tomorrow, if you want to go see it…”

-0-

Eliot’s basting the duck when John wanders out of the bedroom. There’s a slightly dazed look on his face, mixed with confusion and apology, as though he’s done something wrong, but isn’t quite sure what it is.

Eliot smiles when he sees him, and breathes just a little easier. “Everything okay?” he asks John.

John nods shakily. “Yeah, sorry, Eliot. I… I’m really sorry.”

Eliot pulls John to his side. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

John nods. “Yeah.” He breaks away from Eliot to open the fridge. John pulls out a can of beer, looking over at Eliot in question.

Eliot holds up his Sam Adams. “I have one.”

John nods but doesn’t put one back. He opens it up and Eliot watches, a little worried as he drinks it down. He sets the empty can on the counter and stares at it. John’s never done this after a math coma before, so Eliot doesn’t think it’s that, in fact the only thing different about today is that it’s--“You don’t like Christmas?” Eliot gapes.

John looks away from the empty can. He shrugs a little and looks like he’s about to go for another beer. Eliot reaches out and grabs his arm.

“John, tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s tradition,” John tells him.

“Tradition? To drink beer as fast as you can before dinner?”

John shakes his head. “To be as drunk as possible before getting laid.”

“Getting laid?” Eliot repeats.

“Except not this year,” John says with a nod. “Nope, not this year.”

“Why not this year?”

John grins. “Because I have a boyfriend,” he whispers. “So this year, I’m only getting drunk.”

“What if I ask you not to?” Eliot questions. “Not to get drunk.”

“It’s tradition.”

“We’re making a new one.”

John frowns as he thinks that over. “So the new tradition is not getting laid and not getting drunk?”

“The new tradition is: I make you dinner and then we watch some cheesy Christmas movie before going to bed together.”

“And sleeping,” John says knowingly. Eliot finds him slightly adorable when he’s tipsy, even though he normal hates tipsy people. John sticks his hand out. “I agree to your proposal.” Eliot laughs as he shakes John’s hand.

‘Go set the table, J.”

“J-O-H-N,” John spells. “That’s me.”

Eliot grins as he shakes his head and goes back to basting the duck. It wasn’t the most perfect first Christmas together, but Eliot figures it works for them.

-0-

“Are you sure I’m allowed in here?”

“For the hundredth time,” Eliot growls. “Yes.”

John tightens his hold on Eliot’s hand, squeezing hard as they walk through the _Leverage_ offices. “It seems quiet.”

“That’s because everyone else is off on vacation for the holidays,” Eliot says. “Except Nate.”

“Why not Nate?” John asks, glancing into the meeting room.

“He doesn’t get out much.” Eliot stops at a door next to the fire escape and fishes a key out of his pocket. He unlocks the door and tugs John inside. “This is my office.”

“You have an office?” John asks, looking around.

“Hardison set it all up, so we look more legitimate.”

He watches John as he walks around the room. John pauses at the small knife display on the wall. He reaches out to touch one but changes his mind at the last minute. There aren’t many personal things in the office, but John’s lingered on every single one of them. Eliot thinks John really does know him well.

“It’s nice,” John says finally.

“I’m hardly ever in here,” Eliot tells him. “The best part about breaking the law is how little paperwork is involved.”

John laughs. “That’s what TAs are for.”

“That’s what Hardison’s for,” Eliot grins. “Want to go see the tree?”

John nods. “Sure.”

They wander around the offices for a while and Eliot feels lighter than he has in a long time. John swings their joined hands back and forth, chatting about the benefits of three highlighters versus two, and even though the whole conversation is absurd, Eliot wouldn’t trade it for anything.

-0-

By mid-January Eliot still hasn’t managed to tell John he’s ready for everything. He’s not sure what’s holding him back, but he just can’t get the words out. He hasn’t talked to John about what happened on Christmas, because every time he brings it up, John manages to change the subject. It’s like asking Hardison who ate the last slice of pizza.

He’s lost in thought when his cell phone rings. Nate gives him a look, but doesn’t stop talking, so Eliot automatically sends it to voicemail. It rings a second time and he clicks it off, but on the third ring he checks the caller: John.

Nate frowns upon them taking calls while he’s in the middle of explaining a job, but John rarely calls in the middle of the day, and three times in a row means _something_ even if Eliot’s not sure what.

He slips out of the meeting room and thumbs the phone on. “What’s up, J?”

“ _Eliot?_ ”John asks in a small, shaky voice. “ _I’m really sorry to bother you, I… Can you come pick me up when you get off work?_ ”

“At school?”

“ _N-no, I’ll be downtown_.”

“Downtown? Where are you now?”

“ _I’m waiting for the tow truck_ ,” John says.

“Waiting for a tow truck?” Eliot looks out the window to see a light dusting of snow on the ground. “Are you in your car? What’s wrong with it? How long until they get there?”

“ _I’m not sure what’s wrong with it. It was working fine and then just stopped. They should be here in a couple of hours_.”

“You’re going to freeze,” Eliot says, already heading for his office to get his jacket and keys. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

“ _I’m in the parking lot of that_ Starbucks _by school. I managed to pull in before my car died_.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Eliot tells him. “And go wait inside, get some coffee or something, get out of the cold.”

“ _Oh_ ,” John says, as if that never occurred to him. “ _Yeah, coffee, okay. And thanks, Eliot_.”

“No problem.” They hang up and Eliot sticks his head back into the meeting room. Nate stops talking and looks at him expectantly. “John’s car broke down, I’m going to go pick him up and see if I can fix it. I probably won’t be back today.”

“Is he okay?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah. He’s just freezing while waiting for the tow truck that won’t be there for another couple of hours.”

“I’ll call you tonight,” Sophie offers. “To fill you in.”

“Thanks.” He hurries out of the offices and down to his truck.

John’s waiting outside of his car when Eliot arrives. Eliot shakes his head because of course John is waiting for him out in the cold and not in the warm coffee shop. He pulls his truck up next to John’s Camaro. It’s old, and probably on its last legs, but John seems attached to it, and willing to put in the time and money it takes to maintain the car.

John greets him with a coffee flavored kiss and really cold lips. Eliot rubs his hand up and down John’s arms and then ushers him into his truck where he had the heat running.

He pops the hood on John’s car and gets to work.

-0-

“Up.”

John bats the hand away from him. “It’s Saturday--day of rest.”

“That’s Sunday,” Eliot says. “Saturday’s the day to do enough things that you need a day of rest.”

John squints at him. “Did you just make that up?”

“Maybe. Get up anyway. Parker and Hardison are meeting us at the car place at ten.”

“You secretly hate me, don’t you?” John grumbles. He gets up though and lets Eliot steer him into the bathroom for a shower. Eliot checks the water temperature before climbing in with John. It’s a tight fit in John’s tiny bathroom, but they make it work.

John’s mostly awake but lets Eliot wash his hair and run a washcloth over him. If Eliot wants to cater to John’s laziness, then John isn’t going to be the one to stop him. When they finish, Eliot leaves John to finish getting ready and goes to make them breakfast.

John’s in the middle of zipping up his pants when he realizes that--”Holy crap, it’s January.” He knew it abstractly, but it suddenly hits him that he and Eliot have been together for eight months. He wonders if they’re supposed to celebrate this kind of thing.

He slips some shoes on and makes his way out of the bedroom. While he walks he notices just how much stuff of Eliot’s has migrated into John’s apartment, making it seem even smaller. There’s two guitars in the corner, a stack of books next to John’s that he knows he didn’t buy. There are some cookbooks on the small coffee table, some weights along the wall, sweatshirts all over, and boots by the door.

Eliot lives _here_.

John knows that he has a house somewhere, but Eliot sleeps here. His clothes are in John’s dresser, his food is in John’s cupboards, his toothbrush hangs out next to John’s by the sink.

John freezes as he watches Eliot make an omelet. Eliot lives here. And John lives here. They live _together_. Suddenly John’s apartment feels tiny and there’s not enough space. He wants Eliot to take his stuff back so that it’s not cluttered everywhere. He’s here and he’s always here and John wants him always here but he knows, he _knows_ that Eliot’s going to get tired of him, going to leave him. John’s not fooling himself at all on that front. Men like Eliot don’t stay with men like John.

He thinks if he could just spread their time together out a little more, then he’d get to keep Eliot for just that much longer.

“Do you want mushrooms in your omelet?” Eliot asks.

John snaps his head up. “Huh?”

“Mushrooms,” Eliot repeats.

“No,” John answers. “No mushrooms.” He walks closer and watches Eliot sprinkle cheese on an omelet. He reaches out and his fingers graze Eliot’s arm. Eliot gives him a curious glance but doesn’t say anything. John feels his heart speed up a little and his stomach twists into knots.

He touches Eliot again, because he _can_. Eliot’s the best thing ever and he lets John touch him. Eliot turns his head and John leans down a little for a kiss.

“I love you,” John says. It’s the first time he’s said it since Christmas, and it’s not that he hasn’t wanted to, it’s that it’s hard. Mike would take the words and use them to carve out pieces of John’s soul. John did a lot of things because Mike had said it was love. It felt nothing like this. It still hurts a little, though.

Eliot meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” John confirms.

Eliot smiles and it reaches his eyes and lights up his face and a hundred other cliché things that are coming true in this instant. He presses their foreheads together and strokes a thumb over John’s cheek. “I love you, too, John.”

-0-

“No, not that one,” Parker says. “That one has a--” Eliot growls to cut her off. “…really bad security system,” she finishes innocently.

John eyes her and stays close to Eliot. He still isn’t sure why Parker and Hardison are here, John’s not sure they like him, but regardless they’re out on a Saturday morning car shopping for him. Parker chimes in about security and Hardison about technology and John’s still in pain over losing his Camaro and feels vaguely like he’s cheating on it. Eliot talks about mileage and horsepower and John just feels lost. He was never that into cars, just his.

They’ve been walking up and down the auto mall for almost three hours now and John’s ready to go back to bed. Every car he’s found that he’s liked, there’s been _something_ wrong with it.

Eliot gently squeezes John’s hand and John realizes that Hardison is talking to him about something. John tries to pay attention but it’s _Saturday_. He’s supposed to be reading or bribing Eliot to play him a song. He feels restless and bored and annoyed that this is taking so long.

John closes his eyes and points. “That one.” At once they all turn to see where he’s pointing and John tries to figure out if it’s a car or not. He thinks it might be, but it’s shaped kind of oddly.

“A _Prius_?” Eliot asks. “You want a hybrid?”

“Sure,” John says. “Yes.” He pauses. “Does it come in black?”

Parker slips her arm into John’s free one and tugs him towards the dealership. “We’ll make sure they give you a good price.”

“Isn’t there just one price?” John asks, squinting at the sticker as they walk by. They all laugh and John stares. Apparently not.

-0-

John has questions; he thinks of a new one every day. He never asks them though. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to, it means that he knows nothing would send Eliot running faster than a deluge of curiosity.

They’re lying in bed together, Eliot’s reading a book in… John thinks it might be Kurdish, but isn’t sure. Either way, it’s in another language and John has no idea what it’s about, but Eliot seems to be enjoying it. John has a few scientific journals spread out in front of him, glancing between them.

“My lease is up in a month,” John blurts. He freezes because he didn’t really mean to say that, it just happened.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” John mumbles, going back to his reading.

Eliot reaches over and sets a hand down on top of the page John is looking at. “The lease on your apartment?”

“Really, Eliot,” John says. “It’s nothing. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Are we finally going to talk about this?”

“About what?”

Eliot sighs and sets his book aside. He reaches over and gathers up John’s journals and places them on top of his book. He turns the light off and pulls John to him. “I can take you there,” Eliot says, rubbing John’s hip. “Tomorrow.”

“Why haven’t you before?”

“At first it was mostly to protect myself--I don‘t exactly live within the law. By the time you knew the truth I was basically living here already.”

“Eliot,” John breathes. “Is this…are we…how much longer?”

“How much longer for what?”

“Do you think you’ll stay with me,” John murmurs.

He doesn’t sound desperate or clingy, only sure.

-0-

Eliot hates that John seems so certain that he’s going to leave him. They’ve never really talked about John’s ex, it’s off-limits just as Eliot’s job was, except now Eliot’s told him everything and John still has this. It’s not fair to expect John to spill all about his past, but Eliot kind of does anyway.

He rubs John’s chest in a comforting manner. “Will you tell me about him, J?”

“He was a mistake from day one,” John answers, in a tone that suggests he has nothing more to say on the subject.

“John…”

“I can’t, Eliot, please.”

“Okay,” Eliot agrees.

John exhales. “So?”

“Hmm?”

“How long…?”

“It doesn’t work like that, John.”

“It does,” John insists. “How sick of me are you already?”

“I want you to move in,” Eliot says. “Because I’m not sick of you at all, if anything I want to spend even _more_ time with you. I love you and that doesn’t mean just for now. But I… I live a dangerous life, J. And by being with me, I put you at risk. I’m not asking you to leave, and I’m not saying I want us to break up. I want… I need to know you can protect yourself and I need to know that you know that if anything ever happens to you I will make those fuckers wish their _mothers_ hadn’t been born.”

“More time?”

“More time,” Eliot confirms.

“I have mace.”

“Mace is good. I’ll teach you more.”

“Are you sure about this? It’s only been eight months, Eliot. We haven’t even slept together, what if you--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Eliot says darkly.

“Eliot.”

“ _No_.”

John sighs. “Well, what if I don’t like your house?”

Eliot snorts. “Then I’ll move.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

John grabs for Eliot’s hand, tracing Eliot’s fingers in the dark. He sighs, “We have nothing in common, Eliot.”

“Our last names both start with _S_ ,” Eliot responds easily. Inside he’s nervous, though, because John’s right. He’s not sure they could be more different if they tried. John’s laid back and quiet, Eliot’s angry a lot and isn’t afraid to make a lot of noise. John’s non-confrontational, Eliot’s never backed down in his life.

They fall silent and Eliot knows that they haven’t said everything they need to, but maybe that’s enough for today.

-0-

Eliot’s house is perfect.

John wanders around it as Eliot fixes them some lunch. There’s Native American art decorating the walls, and the whole place has a very Texan feel to it. Eliot’s definitely some kind of cowboy and it kind of turns John on. John’s from Connecticut and has never been to Texas in his life, he thinks he might want to visit someday, with Eliot.

Eliot’s house is large and sprawling, definitely not the kind of place John had imagined. It has four bedrooms, two of which are completely empty. The other one has a futon in it that John supposes makes it some kind of guest room. There’s weight lifting equipment and a punching bag in the garage one side, on the other there’s a _Dodge Challenger_. John’s never seen Eliot drive it and wonders what it’s for. Then wonders if Eliot has some kind of hidden life as a street racer. He hopes not.

There’s a motorcycle next to it and John’s never been on one, but really, really wants to. He makes plans to talk Eliot into it as soon as the weather’s better.

He moves back into the house and keeps walking around. There’s a game room towards the back with a pool table and a dart board, John enjoys the mathematics of both games.

It’s the backyard, though, that John really loves. There’s a huge garden on one side, carefully labeled and taken care of. On the other side there’s a small hot tub in the ground, with an artificial waterfall leading into it. There’s a lawn in between, big enough for tossing a football back and forth. Closer to the house there’s a barbeque and a table with chairs. A couple of trees are near the back fence and John pictures a swinging bench going in the middle with a fire pit in front of it.

Right now the lawn has a light dusting of snow across it and the hot tub is covered, but it’s perfect. Everything’s perfect, and John wants to live here, with Eliot.

Warm arms wrap around him from behind. “So are we goin’ shoppin’ for a new house?”

John shakes his head. “This is…really nice. I don’t know why you’d rather spend your time at my tiny place.”

“You’re there,” Eliot says. He presses a dry kiss to John’s neck. “I made sandwiches.”

John turns around and places his hands on Eliot’s hips. “You really don’t mind if I move in?”

“Nope,” Eliot says. “I figure we can turn one of the spare rooms into an office for you, so your books have somewhere to live.”

“I can pay rent,” John blurts out. “I have money.”

“The house is paid for in full,” Eliot informs him. “But you can pay part of the property taxes and utilities if you want. You don’t really have to, though. I have money, too.”

John eyes him. “How much money?”

Eliot raises an eyebrow. “Why? You want somethin’?”

“No!” John answers quickly. “I… It’s just never come up before. I’m just curious, I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that, it was rude.”

Eliot laughs. “Nothin’ wrong with curiosity, J. It’s all on my computer, you can look at it later if you want.” He pauses. “So that’s a yes to you moving in?”

John nods. “Yes.”

A smile stretches across Eliot’s face. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

-0-

They move John into Eliot’s house in bits and pieces, until two weeks later there’s nothing left to move. His stuff is mixed in with Eliot’s and his Johnny Cash poster is in his new office in Eliot’s… their house.

To celebrate, they’re having a small get together with Eliot’s friends. Eliot had said John could invite people, too, and John hadn’t had the courage to tell him that there was no one to invite, so he’d said they were busy instead. John’s amicable with most of the math and aeronautics departments, but he wouldn’t call any of them friends.

John’s nervous. He’s never met Sophie or Nate and he knows that Eliot really respects them, so he’s determined to try and prove that he’s good enough for Eliot. It would help if he could decide what shirt to wear.

“Just wear the black one,” Eliot calls from the kitchen.

John peers into the closet. Almost all of his shirts are black. “Which black one?”

“The button-up… with the sleeves that you roll up to your elbows,” Eliot answers.

John has three black button-ups. One of them has a button missing that Eliot promised to sew back on, one of them has sleeves that don’t look good when rolled, so John grabs the third.

When he turns around, fully dressed, Eliot’s there, leaning in the doorway. He has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s watching John with a fond expression. “You nervous?”

“No,” John lies.

Eliot grins. “Sure you aren’t.” He gestures John closer with a finger. John walks over until he’s a hair away from Eliot, their feet are touching and John’s leg is nudged between the other man’s. It’s an intimate position, even more so when Eliot reaches around and slides his hands into the back pockets of John’s jeans, pushing their groins together. “They’ll probably ask a lot of questions,” he warns. “They’re pretty nosy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“And Nate may try and give you the best friend speech, although I already told him not to.”

John’s never gotten that speech before, he’s never given it either. “Okay.”

“Hey,” Eliot says. “If you need them to go, I’ll kick ‘em out, okay? Just don’t leave me for the numbers?”

“I won’t,” John promises.

Eliot kisses John’s jaw. “Numbers later, okay?”

“Later,” John agrees. He presses Eliot up against the door jam and kisses him soundly. It helps distract them both and John feels better when he pulls back.

The doorbell rings before he can kiss him again, and Eliot slides his hands out of John’s pockets to fix both of their shirts. “Ready?”

John exhales. “Yeah. You?”

“As ready as I can be, J.”

John smiles and follows him out to the front room. Eliot opens the door and John sees all four of his friends waiting there. They push past Eliot and into the house and then John’s being hugged by a woman he assumes is Sophie, considering it’s definitely not Parker.

“My, my,” she grins. “You are quite the looker.” John frowns at her. “Where are my manners. Sophie Devereaux,” she says, holding her hand out. John shakes it as she winks at him. “You and I are going to have so much to talk about.”

“John, my man,” Hardison says. He reaches out and slaps his hand against John’s. “What’s up?”

“Alec,” John nods. “Hi.”

Parker makes her way over and holds out a bouquet of flowers…made out of money? “This is for you,” she says with a bounce.

John looks at it then glances over at Eliot who’s busy talking with Nate. “Um, thanks,” he says tentatively, but doesn’t reach for it.

“It’s a housewarming gift,” she says brightly. “Hardison said I was supposed to bring one.”

That’s when John notices the boxes by the door that weren’t there a minute ago and the bag Sophie is holding in her hand. “Oh. Those aren’t really necessary.”

“Nonsense,” Sophie says. She offers up her own gift to John. “Well, go on! Take it.”

John reaches out for it hesitantly. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Sophie smiles. “Now I know that Eliot has some wine around here somewhere…” she says, wandering off in the direction of the kitchen leaving John with Hardison and Parker.

“My gift is by the door,” Hardison says. “Guess what it is.”

John squints at the multitude of boxes. “Legos?”

Hardison laughs. “Nah, man. But that would have been cool. I’ll have to remember that for next time. It’s a computer. I know Eliot has one, but that might as well be from the stone-age. This one is state of the art and everything, yo. I can help you get it set up.”

“That would be great,” John says. “You really didn’t have to get us a computer.”

Hardison looks at him. “It’s cool, man. Where should I put it?”

“My office is down the hall.”

“Office? Eliot gave you one of the spare rooms?” Hardison asks.

John follows him to the boxes by the door. When he passes Eliot, he reaches out and subtly brushes his hand against the other man’s. “Yeah.”

Parker grabs three of the smaller boxes while John grabs one large one and Hardison grabs another. When he turns around, Eliot’s there, reaching for the remaining box and carrying it down the hall with them.

“You good here?” Eliot asks after he sets his box down.

John looks at Hardison and Parker, who are already tearing open boxes. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure Sophie will find her way here sooner or later,” Eliot says. “Nate, too.”

John nods. “Okay.”

Eliot leaves and John turns back to face the other two. Hardison’s already hooking up wires and stuff, so John leaves him to it. Parker, on the other hand, is going through a wallet that looks suspiciously like--

“Is that mine?” John asks.

She looks up, almost guilty. “Sorry.”

“Stuff isn’t safe around Parker,” Hardison says from under John’s desk.

John shrugs. “As long as I get it back.”

“You will,” Parker chirps.

After a few minutes she hands it over. “Anything good?” John asks wryly. He leans out of the doorway and tosses it into the master bedroom. It lands with a soft plop on the bed.

“Pretty boring,” Parker says.

“I could have told you that,” John tells her.

Parker sits down on the couch in the room and pats the seat next to her. John sits, feeling slightly awkward, and they both watch as Hardison constructs the computer.

“So tell us something about yourself,” Parker says. “Ever kill anybody?”

John shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Steal anything?”

John frowns in concentration. “I accidentally stole some cornstarch once.”

“Break in anywhere?”

“Nope. Although, uh, I lock myself out of my car on a regular basis. I wish I knew how to break in then, instead of waiting for someone to come unlock the doors.”

“I can teach you,” Parker says energetically.

“Yeah?” John asks with interest.

“Definitely. It’s pretty easy, actually.”

John’s not sure if that’s supposed to be encouraging or not. It’s definitely not comforting. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve broken into lots of places,” Parker says. “It’s fun.”

“That’s cool.”

“So if you don’t steal, what do you do when you aren’t working?” Parker asks.

“Math,” John answers.

“Do you make Eliot do math with you?”

“I don’t think anyone makes Eliot do anything,” John says. “But sometimes he’ll read some math stuff with me, yeah.”

“Really?” Hardison asks from across the room. “Eliot reads math things?”

“Some of us _like_ to read, Hardison,” Eliot says from the doorway. “We don’t all kill our brain cells with orange soda.”

“Don’t you be dissin’ my _Squeeze_ , man,” Hardison warns.

Eliot ignores him and looks at John. “Beer?”

John nods. “Sure.”

“Parker?” Eliot asks.

“Sure.”

Eliot leaves and Hardison calls after him, “You ain’t even gonna ask me, man? That’s cold, yo, that’s cold.”

“You can get it yourself, Hardison!” Eliot calls back to him.

“I buy the man a computer,” Hardison grumbles, standing up. “And he makes me fetch my own damn soda.” He wanders out of the room.

When John looks over at Parker, he finds her staring at him. It’s unnerving. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says.

“Can I help you with something?”

“You’re a lot different from Aimee.”

“Is it the gender thing?”

Parker seems to think it over. “Not really.”

John blinks. “Oh.”

Before he can ask anything else, Eliot is there, with Sophie in tow. Sophie takes John’s desk chair, wine glass in hand. Eliot hands a beer down to both of them, eyes Parker and Sophie, and then leaves again. John tries not to feel abandoned to the wolves.

Now they’re both staring at him and John tries to remember that he promised Eliot no numbers. He takes a long swig of his beer.

“So, John,” Sophie says. “Tell us about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?’

“Any family?”

“Just Eliot,” John answers.

Sophie smiles, and this one seems truer than the others, more real. John’s reminded that she’s a grifter, that she plays people for a living. He wonders if she’s playing him now. “And what do you like to do for fun?”

“Oh! I know that one,” Parker cuts in. “He likes math.”

John nods. “What she said.”

“I was never good at that in school,” Sophie tells him.

“I don’t think schools use the right approach when they teach it,” John tells her. “Math is…beautiful. It’s in everything and it’s everywhere. I wish kids could connect what they learn in a classroom to what they see outside of it.”

“Maybe someday,” Sophie says wistfully. “What else do you do for fun?”

What else? There are numbers, and that’s all John needs. And Eliot. For however long John gets him that is. “Read.”

“What do you and Eliot do together for fun?”

“We’ve camped,” John tells them. “Eliot likes to cook for us.”

“Hey, man,” Hardison says, walking back into the room with a giant bottle of _Orange Squeeze_. “Eliot was asking for you.”

John nods to Parker and Sophie and leaves the room as quick as he can without looking like he’s running. Eliot’s out on the couch, Nate’s sitting in the recliner nearby. John takes the open seat cushion by Eliot and automatically reaches for his hand.

“Doin’ okay?” Eliot murmurs.

John nods. “Yeah.”

“Nate,” Eliot says. “This is John. John… Nate.”

John offers his best smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Nate nods. “You, too. Eliot speaks highly of you.”

“And you,” John says politely.

They fall silent and the air is heavier in here with Nate than it was with Parker. Eliot squeezes his hand and John squeezes back. Nate’s spinning around a tumbler full of whiskey and John takes a closer look at him. His eyes are red and his hair is messy. He seems pretty put together, but John knows he’s not. He knows Eliot worries about him constantly. He knows that Sophie worries and Hardison worries and that even Parker worries.

What John knows is that Eliot would move the whole goddamn planet for this man who can’t stand to be sober for any length of time.

The quiet is broken when they hear Hardison calling for Eliot. Eliot looks at them and then squeezes John’s hand and is gone.

John thinks it’s time for the best friend speech. From him. “Get help,” he says.

Nate looks at him. “What?”

“Eliot loves you and you break his heart,” John accuses. “You’re breaking all of their hearts.”

Nate shifts in his seat and glares. “I don’t know who you think you are--”

“I’m the man who has to put Eliot back together every night,” John tells him. “Get help,” he repeats. “If not for you, then do it for them.” With that, he stands up and leaves, without looking back.

-0-

A week after the housewarming party, John comes home to find Eliot‘s truck in the driveway. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon, and normally Eliot’s not even home yet. Today he is. John’s heart skips a beat as he tries to think of all the reasons Eliot might be home, his mind gets stuck on _injured_.

He hurries into the house, slamming the door behind him as he runs to their bedroom. “Eliot?”

Eliot’s in there, sitting on the bed. He doesn’t look hurt, just defeated, which John thinks might be worse. “Hey,” Eliot greets.

“What happened?”

Eliot smiles up at him sadly. “Nate checked himself into rehab.”

“He what?” John gapes.

“He walked in today, said we couldn’t take any more cases for a while because he was checking himself into a detox program.” Eliot looks at him. “He said to tell you _thank you_.” He reaches for John’s hands and holds them tightly. “I don’t know what you said, John, but _thank you_. Thank you so fuckin’ much, man.”

John steps in between Eliot’s legs and leans down into him. “You’re welcome.” He falls on top of Eliot as Eliot leans backwards onto the bed.

They’re a mess of limbs as their mouths find each other. Eliot’s hands are pulling at John’s clothing and it’s not long before they’re naked. Eliot’s mouth is on his and John feels like they’re crawling into each other.

“ _Please_ ,” John begs.

“Yes,” Eliot breathes. “ _Yes_.”

“Don’t--don’t tease,” John pleads.

“I’m not,” Eliot promises. “I’m ready, J. If you are.”

“So ready,” John answers. He looks down into Eliot’s clear blue eyes. “I’m still… I mean, I probably haven’t gotten any better at sex.”

“Don’t start with that shit again, John,” Eliot growls.

John nods. “I just don’t want you to--”

Eliot cuts him off with a kiss. He pushes his tongue into John’s mouth, mapping it out. John’s hands travel over Eliot’s body, mapping scars and bruises out. Eliot rolls them over so that John’s underneath him and they scoot further up the bed.

He leans down and bites one of John’s nipples, hard enough that John knows he’s still a little upset at him. “I’m sorry,” John pants. Eliot bites again and John makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream. When Eliot does it a third time, it doesn’t matter that it’s a little bit gentler. Eliot’s morphing into Michael and a jolt of fear races through John’s body.

He pushes at Eliot--weakly at first, and then harder until Eliot’s face is hovering over his. “J?”

“Stop,” John breathes. “Please, Mike, stop.”

“Mike?” The body on top of him roles off and to the side.

“ _Please_ ,” John says again. “Stop, stop, stop.” It takes a while for it to click that no one’s touching him, but when it does he doesn’t waste any time bolting for the door. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just that he has to get away. He locks himself into his office and crawls under the desk.

“John?” The knob turns but doesn’t budge, keeping the door closed tightly between them. “Fuck, John. God, I’m sorry.”

There’s a number floating in front of him and John latches onto it, letting himself be pulled into the math.

-0-

“Hello!”

“Parker,” Eliot growls. “I need you to unlock a door.”

“Fists broken?” Parker asks sympathetically.

“No. How fast can you get here?”

“Where’s _here_?”

“My house,” Eliot says.

“Did you lock yourself out?”

“No. Just…just get here, okay?”

“I’m on my way.”

Parker shows up in short enough time to let Eliot know that she broke about a dozen driving laws to get there. He’s never been more appreciative of her than he is at that moment. He lets her into her house and leads her back to John’s office. “Can you get this open?”

She shoots him a look of annoyance. “I could do this with my feet.”

“Use your hands,” Eliot orders. “Be quick.”

It takes her fifteen seconds to get the lock open. Once he hears it click, he thanks her and escorts her back to the door. “Thanks,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She meets his eyes, and there’s a rare look of seriousness on her face. “Is John okay?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Make him okay, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he promises.

She nods and Eliot closes the door behind her. He finds John under the desk in a math coma. His skin is cold to the touch when Eliot bends down to lift him up. He carries John back to their room, slipping him under the covers. He decides that when John wakes up, they’re going to talk about this. They’re going to talk about Mike and what he did and what John needs Eliot to not do ever, because Eliot can’t listen to him beg him to stop, can’t watch fear take hold of his features.

He climbs in beside John, pulling him flush against him, sharing body heat. John’s lost to the math, and Eliot thinks he’ll be gone for a while.

“I love you.”

-0-

As soon as the math is gone, John starts crying. It’s completely embarrassing, but he can’t stop. Arms tighten around him and Eliot’s cooing softly in his ear, but John is shaking and it hurts. It’s not supposed to be like this. The math always makes everything better, but right now it all just feels so much worse.

“I’ve got you, J,” Eliot says. “I’ve got you.”

He turns around in Eliot’s arms and buries his face into Eliot’s chest, Eliot rocks them gently back and forth.

“Sorry,” John whispers as the tears slowly subside.

“We need to talk about this.”

John shrinks back. “I know.”

“I mean now,” Eliot tells him gently.

“Okay,” John whispers, even though it’s anything but.

“We can sit on the couch if you want,” Eliot offers.

“I’m fine.”

Eliot exhales loudly. “There’s one rule,” he says. “No lies. If you really can’t answer something, just tell me that, but please, John--we’re gonna get past this, but there can’t be any lies.”

John’s been lying about Mike--to himself--for so long that he isn’t sure he can do anything else. He’ll try for Eliot. “Okay.”

“Last name,” Eliot says.

“Riley,” John whispers. “Michael Riley.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Two years.”

“Did he hurt you?”

John never thought that _yes_ would be harder to say than _no_. “Yes.”

“For how long?”

John’s not sure how to answer that question. When he was with Mike, it never seemed that wrong, at least not until the end. It just seemed normal. “I’m not sure,” he says.

“Not sure?”

“A lot of things blurred for me.”

Eliot nods. “Okay. Next, triggers.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

‘When I bit your nipple,” Eliot explains. “You obviously had a flashback. I need to know what else you think will cause that.”

“It wasn’t…that wasn’t what caused it,” John admits quietly. “I’ve done that with others since Mike, it’s never happened before.”

“So what caused it then?”

“You were angry,” John murmurs. “And you took it out on my body.”

Eliot rubs a thumb over the nipple he had bitten and John shivers at the touch. “I wasn’t angry at you.”

“I know.” John exhales softly. “This isn’t a thing, Eliot. I slept with a bunch of guys to help me get over this. What this is, is a fluke, it won’t happen again, okay? I’m really sorry I messed up, but it was a onetime thing.”

“He abused you, John,” Eliot growls. “You can’t just get rid of that by sleeping with people.”

“Yes, I can.”

“It’s more than all of that, J. What about when you say things like you’re bad at sex?”

John shrugs. “That wasn’t really him. I mean, sure he said it, but other people said it, too. I’m being upfront about it, Eliot, the least you can do is respect that.”

“The least I can do is beat the shit out of every single man who’s ever made you think it’s necessary to tell people that,” Eliot grinds out. “The least I can do is leave Michael Riley alive, only wishing he were dead. The least I can do is _not_ me respecting the goddamn lies of others that you insist on repeating.”

“Why do you always have to make a big deal out of things?” John asks, sitting up. “I’m sorry I ruined your night, okay, but I already told you, it won’t happen again. This is no longer an issue, it--”

“It is a motherfucking issue when we’re having sex and you’re begging me to stop!” Eliot says loudly. “God, John, do you know what that felt like? You just kept asking me to stop and I wasn’t even touching you! And I knew, I _knew_ that you had asked someone else to and they _hadn’t_ stopped. They hadn’t and they hurt you and I love you so fucking much that just the thought of that makes me want to cry.”

And he is crying by the end of it. John can see tears on Eliot’s face and he hastily wipes at his own. “I’m sorry,” John says again. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d be fine. I’ve _been_ fine. I thought I would be okay.”

“I’m going to ask something of you,” Eliot says quietly. “And you’re going to want to say _no_ , but I need you to say _yes_.” He takes a deep breath, “I need you to tell me what he did so I can understand things, understand _you_.”

“I left that behind me,” John whispers.

“I know.”

“I worked really hard to get here.”

“I know.”

“You’re asking me to go back there.”

“Yes.”

‘I don’t know if I can.”

“I really need you to.”

John swallows and lays back down, sinking into Eliot’s arms. “Okay.”

“Tell me,” Eliot whispers.

So John does.

-0-

For a while John feels as though every single wound he’s been healing has been opened up. He’s walking around raw, with numbers constantly circling him. The only thing that helps is Eliot. John wants to wrap himself up in the other man and never let go. Eliot seems fine with this plan, as he hasn’t been more than an arm length away from John since that night.

“Play for me,” John says.

Eliot nods and goes to get his guitar. When he comes back, John’s curled into the side of the couch and Eliot takes the seat next to him. “What do you want to hear?”

“The song about Mary,” John says with a smile. It’s his favorite.

“Someday you’ll get tired of this song,” Eliot says, but strums the opening chords anyway.

“Never,” John swears. “It’s beautiful.”

“ _Mary and a man live in a two-bedroom beside me, used to see her in the hall at night_ …”

-0-

Eliot’s birthday is the first week of March. By then, Nate’s been sober for five weeks, and there’s a bounce in his step that had been missing for so long. Eliot still doesn’t know what John said to Nate, but he’s so grateful that he did.

Arms slide around him from behind and John nuzzles the back of his neck. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, cowboy?”

Eliot’s lips twitch into a smile. “My birthday. What’d ya get me?”

“Coal.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” John says. “Let’s skip dinner.”

“Yeah?”

“Early birthday present,” John murmurs. His hands slide down Eliot’s stomach and unbutton his jeans. John slowly unzips them then dips his hand into Eliot’s boxers. He rubs Eliot’s cock gently, teasing him.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Eliot breathes. “I’ll blow you as you blow me.”

“I like the way your mind works.”

They stumble out of the kitchen and down the hall. By the time they reach the bedroom, neither of them have shirts, and Eliot has lost his pants somewhere along the way. John’s pants hit the floor before they collapse onto the bed.

“Did you really get me coal?” Eliot asks, his lips brushing against John’s hip.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He laughs. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”

-0-

In the end, Eliot ends up with a bag of coal and a brand new guitar. He laughs at the first, and almost cries at the second. He’s been eyeing it for months, but every time he’d tracked one down, it’d been sold. He had no idea that John even knew he was looking at one, much less which one it is.

John’s been living with him for almost two months now, and the nesting period is only just starting. Eliot came home one day to find John surrounded by boxes in the guest room, putting together furniture. They left the last bedroom empty because John says they’ll need it for something some day, even if they’re not quite sure what.

John makes Eliot paint the guest bathroom, and then the kitchen while he goes around replacing things Eliot never really cared much for to begin with.

If he’s honest, he thought it’d be a little bit annoying, having John there all the time, but it’s not. Instead, Eliot’s excited to wake up _because_ John’s there. He loves coming home to John grading papers or typing away on his computer. He never thought he’d get something like this, a home with someone. It’s still dangerous, and Eliot’s not going to stop teaching John self-defense moves, but he settles into ideas such as _forever_ and _always_ and _til death do us part_. Someday he thinks he’ll work up the courage to see if John wants the same thing.

-0-

Exactly one year after their first date, John takes Eliot to bed. He figures it’s time, for both of them. Either that or he’s going to have a case of permanent blue balls because neither of them seemed inclined to talk to the other about actually going the last step since the disastrous first try.

As it is, John has to get two beers into Eliot before the other man will even consider it. John thinks Eliot might be more scarred than he is by their first attempt. After the third beer, Eliot’s at least willing to talk about it. John switches him to water after that and tells him that this is something they both need. “Okay,” Eliot says. “Okay.”

They’re both nervous, and it’s evident in the way they fumble with each other’s clothes and bump heads and kiss each other as though it’s their last day on Earth.

There’s an awkward moment when Eliot tries to get John to say he’ll top, and he will eventually, but not the first time, not tonight. Eliot needs this and John probably does, too.

They kiss lazily, licking at lips and teasing tongues. Eliot tastes good and John wants this to go on forever. Eliot’s hands smooth across John’s body, avoiding his nipples, something’s he’s done ever since that night, no matter how much John tries to talk him into it. John thinks it’ll take time, and he’s always been patient.

Their cocks rub together and John can’t help but be a little bit excited about what they’re about to do. He’s still nervous, but he’s missed sex, missed more than just blowjobs. Not that the blowjobs aren’t awesome, but John just wants _more_.

He breaks their kiss and pulls one of Eliot’s hands up to his mouth. He sucks in two fingers, slicking them up, assaulting them with his tongue. Eliot moans lightly at just the feel of that. When they’re wet enough, John releases them and guides Eliot’s hand to his backside.

Their eyes meet as Eliot presses a finger inside. It’s just the tip at first and then a little more and a little more until it’s all the way inside.

John kisses Eliot hard, silently asking for more. Eliot eases his other finger in, too, and it’s been so long, that John feels a slight burn as he stretches. “More,” John begs. “Eliot, god.”

Eliot grabs the bottle of lube and they move a little, John rolling onto his stomach and Eliot scooting closer. He drizzles lube down John’s crack and waits until it hits where his fingers are still buried in John to pull them out. He coats them in lube and works them back in, gingerly moving them around.

“You’re so tight, J,” Eliot moans.

“Been a while,” John manages to say.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Eliot says as he begins to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of John’s hole.

Eliot moves a little so that his cock is next to John’s mouth and John really doesn’t need an invitation. He opens his mouth and sucks Eliot’s cock in, running the tip of his tongue back and forth across the slit. Eliot drops his free hand to the back of John’s neck and applies a little pressure signaling what he wants. John leans over and swallows him down as far as he can reach. Eliot’s cock fills his mouth and John loves being so full.

He starts to bob his head up and down Eliot’s cock in rhythm to the fingers moving in and out of him. When Eliot adds a third finger John almost comes on the spot. He grinds his dick painfully into the mattress and almost wishes they’d used a cock ring.

Eliot pulls his cock from John’s mouth and John licks at it as Eliot pours more lube over his hole. Then the mattress shifts and Eliot’s moving behind him, pulling John up onto his hands and knees. Eliot rubs his cock between John’s cheeks, teasing his entrance with the tip.

“Eliot,” John moans.

Eliot reaches under John and squeezes his cock. “You good?”

“Yeah, just… I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” John admits.

“Me neither,” Eliot agrees. With that, John feels him line the tip of his cock up with John’s hole and then he’s pushing in. John lets out a deep, long moan as Eliot eases into him slowly. It burns a little, and John’s definitely going to feel it tomorrow, but for now it feels amazing. When he’s all the way in, Eliot slumps down onto John’s back. “Okay?”

“Give me a minute,” John pants. His body is stretching to accommodate Eliot, but it’ll take a few moments before it’s actually comfortable enough for anything more.

Eliot presses wet kisses to John’s back and makes soothing noises while John breathes through the pain. Finally it subsides enough that he’s pushing back a little. Eliot seems to get the message as he straightens up, hands going to rest on John’s hips. He pulls out slowly and then presses back in gently. After a couple of minutes, Eliot speeds up until he’s thrusting in and out of John.

“Eliot,” John moans. “Nugh.”

“Yeah, really not gonna last if you keep makin’ those noises,” Eliot breathes. “I’m already so close.” John clenches a little around Eliot’s dick and Eliot shudders but doesn’t come. “Waiting for you,” Eliot manages to say.

“Just…” John clenches again.

“Fuck,” Eliot pants. “I want to kiss you.”

John collapses awkwardly down onto the bed, with Eliot falling onto him. They move apart so that John can roll over. Eliot’s eyes are a dark blue and John thinks they need to always be facing each other because Eliot looks _really good_ like this. “Beautiful,” John murmurs. He reaches up and traces Eliot’s face with his hand, tucking some of Eliot’s hair behind his ear and out of his face. He wraps his legs around Eliot’s waist as the other man slides back in.

Eliot leans down and captures John’s lips in his own. The kiss is hungry and full of need and want. John holds tight to Eliot and can feel him start to shake. “John,” Eliot breathes.

“I’ve got you,” John promises.

“You…”

“Will be coming really soon, too,” John finishes. “I’ve got you, Eliot.”

Eliot makes a soft choking noise as he comes, whispering John’s name. Eliot slides a hand between them and jerks John off until John comes, too. Eliot pulls out and falls to the side. He grabs some tissues from the side of the bed and wipes down John’s chest and between his legs. “I don’t think I’ve come that quickly since I was sixteen,” Eliot says, tossing them towards the garbage.

“Should we shower?” John asks. He carefully rolls onto his side and throws an arm and a leg across Eliot’s body.

“In the morning,” Eliot says. “Happy anniversary.”

“Don’t make me wait another year.”

Eliot laughs. “Darlin’, I won’t even make you wait another _day_.”

“Good,” John nods.

“Very,” Eliot agrees.

-0-

“J?” Eliot calls out as he nudges the door open with his foot. “I invited the crew for a barbeque tonight. Is that alright?” He sets down the grocery bags he’s carrying. “And I got more of those energy drinks you like,” he says, sorting through the bags. “J?”

John’s car is in the driveway, so Eliot’s ninety percent sure that he’s here, but usually John has poked his head out at him by now. It’s summer in Colorado Springs, and John doesn’t have work at the university, but he spends most of his time writing or working anyway. He’s usually there to greet Eliot at the door, and Eliot’s gotten used to it.

He’s suddenly tense, and quietly moves out of the kitchen. He doesn’t make a sound as he walks through their living room. Eliot pushes open the door to John’s office; it’s empty. He moves on to the two spare rooms, the bathrooms, and then their bedroom; all empty.

Eliot pulls his phone out of his pocket and dial’s John’s number. He holds his breath as he waits for it to connect. Then he hears ringing. It’s faint, but he can make it out. It rings a couple of times as Eliot tries to walk towards the sound.

“’liot?” John answers sleepily.

“Where are you?” Eliot demands.

“Out back,” John tells him.

Eliot closes his phone and stalks to the backyard. John is stretched out on top of a blanket on the grass. There’s a large umbrella sitting on the ground and the top half of John’s torso is wedged underneath it. Eliot breathes a soft sigh of relief as John blinks sleepily at him. He walks over and crouches down next to John’s form. He reaches out and runs a hand through John’s hair. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” John apologizes. “I didn’t think it was so late. Just came out here for a nap.”

“Most people go to their bed for naps,” Eliot says, stroking hair off of John’s forehead. “It’s hot out here.”

“Not that hot,” John grins. “And there’s a nice breeze.”

“I invited the team over for dinner.”

“Mmm. Ribs?”

“Steak,” Eliot answers. “But we might have some ribs if you’d rather have that.”

John tugs on Eliot’s shirt. “Would rather have you.”

Eliot laughs. “Let me finish putting the groceries away and then you can have me for a couple of hours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eliot promises. He cards his fingers through John’s hair again. “I think Nate wants to talk to you about a con.”

“Me?” John repeats.

Eliot does his best to keep John separate from the cases they take. If John asks, he’ll answer, but John usually doesn’t ask. “Yeah. We’re investigating a company and Hardison found a bunch of files with just numbers. He’s been running them through some software of his, but it’s been days, man, and he still has nothing. I think Nate’s gonna ask if you’ll take a look at them.”

“Investigating them for what?”

“We think they know that the drug they’ve been testing has lethal consequences, but they’re covering it up. A girl’s sister died and she has a list of names of other people who have died while taking it, too.”

“I don’t think I tell you enough how proud I am of you,” John says, rubbing a hand over Eliot’s knee. “What you guys do is…it’s amazing.”

Eliot definitely isn’t blushing. “So you’ll look at the files then?”

“Of course,” John nods.

“Okay. Lemme finish with the groceries.”

“I’ll meet you inside.”

“Be naked,” Eliot grins as he stands back up.

John rolls his eyes. “So demanding.”

“And you love it,” Eliot replies over his shoulder as he heads for the door. He can hear John laughing behind him.

-0-

John lives with a lot of elephants in the room. Or maybe giraffes. He thinks that giraffes works with the metaphors just as well as elephants do, and they’re prettier. So, John lives with a lot of giraffes.

There’s the giraffe of Eliot’s job.

While John knows what it is, and what Eliot’s done, it’s still best not to ask questions about anything. And Eliot still prods him out of bed on Sundays to teach him self-defense. So yeah, they don’t talk about it, but it’s in the room.

There’s the giraffe of John’s past.

John thinks he’s over it, Eliot thinks he’s not, so they’re at a standstill on this issue. Eliot won’t bring it up, though, if only because he knows that John hates talking about it. So if John occasionally flinches or apologizes for things that he shouldn’t be apologizing for, well, neither of them says anything.

There’s the giraffe of sex.

Now that they have it, and John actually likes it, he’s discovered that he has a slight preference for topping. And Eliot’s definitely not a bottom. It’s fine, it really is, because John’s bottomed for most of his life, and it’s not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that sometimes he’d rather top, but bottoms instead. Eliot knows this is a thing, if him bottoming semi-frequently is anything to go by. They just haven’t talked about it either.

And finally, there’s the giraffe of John’s emerging need to take care of Eliot.

The longer they’re together, the more Eliot can’t hide his injuries from John, the more he doesn’t. Sometimes it’s more than a bruised jaw or a split lip. In the two years they’ve been together, he’s come home with seven knife wounds, two bullet grazes, five broken fingers, twelve cracked ribs, and three broken noses. Not that John is keeping track.

Before Eliot, John had never considered himself as someone with a need to really mother someone. But here he is, puttering around the house, making sure they have heating pads and ice packs and ibuprofen. He really tries not to do it, because he knows that Eliot doesn’t particularly like or need it, but he can’t stop. Eliot, for his part, is pretty patient about it; he lets John fuss over him a bit. He’s blown up at John a couple of times over it, but John still can’t stop.

It’s a giraffe because they don’t talk about it, even when Eliot’s yelling that he doesn’t need a caretaker. And they don’t talk about it when John’s tossing more bandages into the cart at the store next to Eliot’s beer.

So, yeah, John lives with these giraffes, but so does Eliot, and it seems to work for them, for now at least.

-0- **END Part One JOHN &ELIOT **-0-


	2. Interlude One

-0- **INTERLUDE ONE** -0-

“What?”

“You checkin’ out some other guy, Sheppard?” Eliot asks over his beer.

John shrugs. “He looks lonely.”

Eliot turns around and subtly eyes the man that John had been looking at. He’s at a table by himself, a glass of whiskey in front of him, but he isn’t drinking it. He’s not really moving at all, just alternates between looking at his drink and looking at the crowd inside McRory’s. “Probably waiting for someone,” Eliot dismisses.

“He’s been in here before.”

Eliot turns back to face John. “And?”

“And he just orders a drink, sits down, doesn’t drink it, and leaves,” John tells him. There’s a look on his face, a worried one, one that Eliot knows John doesn’t let slip out often, not anymore.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Eliot says. “I’m sure he’s fine, J.”

John shakes his head. “Yeah,” he says softly. “You’re probably right.”

After that, though, Eliot notices. He notices the man ordering a drink and leaving before taking a sip. More importantly, he notices John noticing. Eliot has a lot of worries concerning John, but one has never been that he’ll cheat on Eliot--until now. John’s clearly taken by the other man even if he never brings him up again.

They’re curled up on the couch together, Eliot’s strumming his guitar and John’s alternating between making requests and reading a math journal. It’s a pretty normal night for them, but Eliot can’t get over the guy at the bar.

He sets his guitar down, leaning it against the side of the couch and turns to face John. John’s frowning in concentration, but looks up when Eliot taps him on the knee. “Bedtime?” John asks, already closing his book.

“J, about the man at the pub…”

John stares at him as though Eliot’s speaking another language. “What man?”

“The one you think is lonely.”

“Oh,” John murmurs. He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “What about him?”

“I love you,” Eliot says.

John inhales sharply. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“ _No_ ,” Eliot says firmly. “You need to stop thinking that whenever I tell you I love you.”

“Sorry,” John mumbles.

It’s Eliot’s fault that John thinks that, but it’s been a year since he tried to break up with John, for his own good. The damage is done, though. Eliot reaches for John’s hand. “What do you think about taking someone else to bed?”

“Just me…?”

“With me,” Eliot says. He’s thought about this before, but he’s not sure John has. He’s not sure how John feels about threesomes at all.

“You want me to--” John cuts himself off and looks away. He makes a choking sound and rushes for the bathroom.

Eliot thinks that Michael Riley should thank the lord that he died in an automobile accident before Eliot could get his hands on him. Eliot’s been with John for five years, and the other man’s abuse still lingers, probably always will.

When Eliot finds John, he’s leaning over the toilet, heaving heavily into it. Eliot kneels down next to him and rubs him back soothingly. When John finishes, Eliot steps back to let him rinse his mouth out and brush his teeth.

John turns around to face him slowly and he has the look on his face that means Eliot’s about to lose him to the math. He reaches out and grabs John’s forearms tightly. “Don’t.”

“I can’t…”

“I’m wasn’t asking you to let someone fuck you while I watch,” Eliot says roughly. “I would never ask that of you.”

John swallows and forces a smile to his face. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Will you stay with me?”

He watches John glance at numbers only he can see, before he nods. “Yes.”

Eliot leads John out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. They climb into bed together and he holds John close. John hasn’t had a reaction this severe in years and it makes Eliot’s chest ache.

“Why?” John asks softly.

“Because you need someone to take care of who will let you and not be an asshole about it. Because we need someone who actually _is_ a bottom. And maybe…maybe he looked lonely to me, too.”

“This would be a really big change.”

“I know. I think we have room for him, though.”

John exhales. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this.”

“Because of what happened to you? Or because I’m a possessive, jealous bastard?”

“Both.”

“I’m not saying we just jump into bed with him. We can get to know him, see if he’s even interested.”

“He’d be in our relationship with us,” John says quietly.

“Yeah, he would be.”

“And if it doesn’t work? If it turns out we don’t have room, do we just pretend like none of this ever happened?”

Eliot cards a hand through John’s hair. “Then we keep movin’ on. You’re enough for me, J, whether we do this or not. Don’t ever think you aren’t.”

John’s silent for a really long time, and Eliot knows he’s thinking, but it’s still a little unnerving. Then finally, “He did look really lonely.”

“Yeah. He did.”

-0- **END INTERLUDE ONE** -0-


	3. Part Two: The Jonas and the Giraffes Job [&JONAS]

-0- **BEGIN Part Two: The Jonas and the Giraffes Job [ &JONAS] **-0-

A week after arriving on Earth, Jonas had been sent to an _adjustment officer_ who provided him with a crash-course on Earth, a few guides to Colorado, and the keys to an apartment off-base, along with the promise that someone would teach him how to drive a car sometime soon. For now, though, Jonas has a bicycle and a carpool to the Mountain every morning.

His apartment is nice. It’s an hour’s walk from the SGC and ten minutes to a nice shopping center. There’s a bakery on the corner that Jonas likes to get breakfast at, and sometimes pastries for his team on a good day. On a bad day there’s a pub about twenty minutes away, where Jonas would sit and stare at whatever alcohol the barkeeper put in front of him.

Today is a bad day.

Mitchell and Jackson had both been shot while they’d been trying to escape local villagers. Teal’c had laid down fire while Sam and Jonas helped them back to the gate. Jonas figures he’ll bring in some pastries in the morning, pumpkin ones for Mitchell, and cherry ones for Daniel. They aren’t officially his team, but Jonas is out with them more often than not and he gets an invite to all of the team events, or at least he thinks he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

Jonas looks up from the amber liquid he’s staring at. A man, older than Jonas, but probably not by much, is standing there, holding a beer in his hand, looking down at Jonas expectantly.

“Sure,” Jonas answers, gesturing to an empty chair at his table.

“John,” the other man says, holding out his hand.

“Jonas.”

John tilts his head back and glances over at the bar. Jonas follows his gaze to another man, probably younger than Jonas, but Jonas has never been good at judging ages. He has shoulder length hair and an angry look on his face.

“Mind if my partner joins us?” John asks.

Jonas shakes his head. “Nope.”

John smiles and takes a long sip of his beer. Jonas had tried beer once. That had been his first and last experience with the drink. “New in town?” John asks.

Jonas shrugs. “I’ve been here a couple of months.”

“Come here often?” John’s eyes lock onto his and Jonas feels uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Only when I have bad days,” Jonas answers, looking away. He notices the man from the bar walking over and the closer he gets, the more Jonas wonders what’s going on. He’s been to this bar several times in the past two months, and no one has ever approached him and now there’s about to be two men sitting with him when there are plenty of empty tables surrounding him.

The other man, John’s partner, takes the remaining empty seat at the table. His beer clunks onto the table but none spills. He moves his chair closer to John’s and sits. He retakes his beer into his hand and leans back, observing--there but not really there, and it’s just a little unnerving.

John smiles at Jonas again and it’s friendly enough. “This is my partner, Eliot. He’s not much of a hand-shaker.”

Jonas smiles in Eliot’s direction. “Nice to meet you.”

Eliot only nods and takes a drink of his beer. The table grows silent as the men across from him enjoy their beer. Jonas's eyes drift back down to the whiskey in front of him, untouched in his glass.

“Probably works better when you drink it,” John says.

Jonas looks up in time to see John smirk before taking another drink. “Huh?”

“The whiskey,” John clarifies, jutting his chin in its direction. “If you’re here to forget your bad day, then you’re going to need to do a lot more than stare at your glass.”

Jonas shakes his head. “I’m not here to forget.”

John eyes him and then shrugs. “To each his own.” He swallows down the rest of his beer and sets the empty glass on the table between them.

Jonas watches as the back of Eliot’s hand touches John’s shoulder lightly. “‘Nother beer, darlin’?”

After thinking for a moment, John shakes his head. “Coke?”

Without saying anything, Eliot sets his half-filled glass of beer on the table and gets up without another word, heading for the bar.

Jonas blinks and frowns a little.

“Problem?” John asks, leaning forward.

“I thought your name was John,” Jonas says quietly.

“It is.”

“He called you darlin’,” Jonas replies, confused. Is darlin’ an Earth thing? A nickname for John?

John’s eyes narrow and his whole stance changes, and Jonas knows that no matter what else he is, John is dangerous. In the next blink, Eliot is standing next to John, eyes staring accusingly at Jonas.

“ _Darlin’_ is a term of endearment,” Eliot grinds out. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No! Not at all! I’ve just… I’ve never heard it before,” Jonas flushes.

“Never heard it before?” John asks warily.

“I-I live a sheltered life,” Jonas explains. That’s what Mitchell told him to say whenever he got himself into a blundered situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Eliot growls a little and then stalks back across the bar to get John’s soda.

“Must be one hell of a sheltered life,” John says. He reaches over and takes a sip of Eliot’s drink before putting it back.

Jonas nods. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

John waves off the apology and then Eliot is there again, setting John’s drink down in front of him. Jonas hadn’t even seen him approach.

“Is this going to be a problem?” John asks, raising his eyebrows up. He turns to Eliot, “Thanks.”

Eliot nods and goes back to his beer in silence.

“No,” Jonas says. “No problem.” Although silently he is wondering what the problem would be. Then Eliot’s arm slides along the back of John’s chair and it clicks. They’re--

“I see you’ve figure it out,” John smirks again. “Took long enough.”

Jonas flushes, but doesn’t look away. “I’m… I’ve never met…”

Eliot eyes him again and Jonas has the distinct feeling that if John is dangerous, it’s nothing compared to what Eliot can do. Jonas wonders again why these men asked to sit with him.

“So what do you do?” John asks.

Jonas takes a deep breath and then launches into an explanation of what he does--minus the saving the world and traveling to other planets and flying on spaceships.

-0-

Three months later, Jonas finds himself a part of John and Eliot’s lives. Jonas has seen John and Eliot about once a week since then. At first it had just been coincidence, running into them at the pub and such, but then John had invited him over to their place and Eliot had cooked and Jonas had had his first home cooked meal on Earth.

Now it’s part of his routine. He’s at the SGC Saturday through Thursday and on Friday night he bikes over to John and Eliot’s place and Eliot makes food and they play board games or pool, or he eagerly experiences another part of Earth culture.

A couple of weeks ago, Eliot had taken him fishing. It had been the first time Jonas had been alone with the other man, but now, instead of feeling nervous around him, Jonas only feels protected and comforted. There’s just something about Eliot that makes Jonas feel safe.

Once every couple of weeks, John and Eliot come over to Jonas’s apartment and they read quietly together or play cards. Jonas is terrible at everything, including Go Fish. John says it’s because he has more tells than a four year old. Eliot agrees. So did Cam when Jonas asked about it later.

It’s Wednesday when he limps through the gate behind Sam. Fraiser takes one look at Jonas and shuffles him off to the infirmary. Jonas leaves the Mountain with an ankle brace, a pair of crutches, and strict instructions to stay off of his ankle for a week. He finds himself disappointed that he won’t be able to bike over to John and Eliot’s on Friday. He sighs and collects a few books of Daniel’s, his laptop, and lets Cam drive him home.

His ankle is throbbing by the time Cam unlocks his door and helps Jonas inside. Cam gets him settled with a few ice packs, and offers to stay, but Jonas waves him off. He swallows one of the pills that Dr. Fraiser had given him and slips off to sleep as the pain becomes muted by the medication.

-0-

Jonas twitches and blinks his eyes open. He’s startled when he finds a blonde woman leaning over him, staring at him intently. “Well, you don’t look dead to me,” she says.

“Parker!”

Jonas looks up to see Eliot striding into the room, pulling the blonde woman out of Jonas’s bedroom. Jonas closes his eyes and wonders if he’s still sleeping. When he opens them again, John is standing in the doorway, leaning against the side of it, arms crossed over his chest. “Sorry about Parker,” John says. “We needed her to unlock your door.”

Jonas blinks. “Am I awake?”

John snorts and steps into the room. He walks over and crouches by Jonas's bedside. A hand reaches out and pushes some hair out of Jonas's face. Jonas has been growing it out since he’d gotten to Earth, liking it better than the shorter cut he‘d had the first time he was here. John has commented more than once that he likes it. “How are you feeling?”

He opens his mouth to say fine when a blinding pain shoots up his leg. He takes a deep steadying breath and looks back at John. “Fine.”

John rolls his eyes. “Eliot was worried when you didn’t show up on Friday.”

“Friday?” Jonas reaches for his watch. “What day is it?”

“It’s Saturday,” John informs him, blocking his hand from reaching the nightstand.

“Eliot was worried?” Jonas frowns.

“You know him. He worries about everything.”

Jonas frowns, because yes, he thinks he sort of knows Eliot, but he would never have put him in the worrier category. “Sorry.”

John waves the apology off. “It’s nothing.”

Jonas yawns and his stomach chooses that moment to growl, his bladder suddenly making itself known as well. Jonas looks at his crutches, leaning against the wall by his bed, and then looks towards his bathroom. His ankle throbs and it all suddenly seems really far away. He resolutely sits up and pushes his blankets away.

“Need help?” John asks. He grabs the crutches and hands them to Jonas.

“Thanks.”

“Eliot’s making lunch,” John says. “So if you feel up to it, come on out when you’re finished. If you’re not, I’m sure all you’d have to do is bat your eyes at him. He’s a big softy for you, you know.”

With that he leaves and Jonas stares at the spot he’d been standing before deciding that he’d never figure out the Tau’ri.

-0-

The first time he sees John and Eliot kiss is during one of the Friday night dinners. It had been just him and John as Eliot was away on business (and Jonas still had no idea what he did for a living). Then Eliot comes in and John stands up mid-sentence and greets Eliot with a tight hug and a reassuring kiss. Jonas watches them for a couple of seconds before turning his head away.

They aren’t the most demonstrative men, especially around others it seems. Although, Eliot has a possessive streak a mile wide and has absolutely no qualms about pulling John against him while they are out in public. John, too, is just as possessive, and Jonas has seen him hook a finger into Eliot’s jeans more than once.

But this…this is gentle and reassuring, and the brief moments that Jonas caught, with John’s hands carefully checking Eliot over, shows evidence of…more.

Jonas picks up his soda can and swirls the liquid around in it. He’s startled a little when he feels warm lips ghost his forehead. When he looks up it’s to see Eliot moving past him and into the kitchen. John is smiling and shaking his head as he re-takes his seat.

“Ignore him, Jonas,” John says. “He’s just happy to be back.”

“And alive,” Eliot says. He sets a plate of food down on the table and takes an empty chair.

“Were you supposed to be dead?” Jonas asks with a frown.

“Nope,” Eliot says with a wink.

John rolls his eyes. “And can you tell Parker to stop having things delivered here? We’re not a goddamned post office box.”

Eliot laughs. “You know she only does that to annoy you. She doesn’t even keep the things she has sent here.”

John sighs. “Tell her to come for dinner on Tuesday, then. So that she’ll stop for a while. Although, why she can’t just ask to come over like a normal person, I’ll never know.”

“She’s pretty much the weirdest person I know,” Eliot agrees. With a side glance at Jonas he says, “Except for maybe you. Because even Parker knows what Thanksgiving is.”

Jonas smiles easily. “I know now.”

“I’m sure you went home and read every book you could find on it,” Eliot says with certainty.

Jonas frowns only a little, because that’s pretty much what happened. He’s still learning all of the Tau’ri holidays; there are so many, a lot more than Langara had.

“Jonas is just special,” John cuts in. “Eat your green beans.”

Eliot holds up his middle finger towards John, and John returns the gesture easily. Jonas wonders if this is another Tau’ri mating ritual.

They finish eating in silence, but occasionally Jonas catches Eliot staring at John, or John staring at Eliot. More than once he catches both men staring at him.

“There’s Jell-o in the fridge if you want some,” John says.

Jonas grins and takes his plate with him to the kitchen. He loves Jell-o. There is nothing like it back on Langara. The stuff is amazing and he‘s still not sure if it‘s a liquid or a solid, because nothing solid should be that wiggly.

He rinses his plate and puts it in the dish-washer before hunting down the promised Jell-o. He finds a bowl of the blue dessert with his name on it and smiles happily as he pulls it out. When he turns around, Eliot is there holding out a spoon and Jonas takes it eagerly.

John laughs as Jonas sits down with the large bowl of Jell-o, but really, Jonas thinks the Tau’ri could make a killing selling this to other planets. It is _so good_.

Then suddenly his good mood leaves him. Thinking of other planets makes Jonas think of Langara. Only a few hundred of his people had survived, and he is the only one of them here on Earth. His friends are dead, his people gone.

Jonas pushes away the Jell-o and runs for the bathroom. He falls to his knees and loses his dinner to the toilet. He feels hot tears burn his eyes and Jonas shuts the bathroom door, reaching up and locking it.

Even after months of adjusting to Langara’s loss, sometimes it still hit him out of the blue that his home has been wiped away by the Ori.

Someone knocks quietly on the door. “Jonas? You okay?”

Jonas presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Yeah,” he croaks. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

He suddenly wishes for a hug like the one he’d seen John give Eliot earlier, but he isn’t going to ask, and they would never understand anyway.

Jonas stands up shakily. He flushes the toilet and rinses his mouth out at the sink, splashing water onto his face. He makes himself smile until it doesn’t look so forced. Because everyone knows Jonas Quinn smiles at everything.

He takes another minute to try and push the memories away, to lock away the loss and the heartache. It gets easier with time and sometimes Jonas hates that it does.

Jonas opens the door to find Eliot standing on the other side, leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed in front of him. Eliot is a couple of inches shorter than Jonas, but he has a way of making you feel small, or making himself seem huge. Jonas hasn’t decided which one it is.

“Who hurt you?” Eliot questions darkly.

Jonas shakes his head and offers that not-fake-looking smile. “No one. I’m fine.”

“Think I’m stupid, Quinn?”

“Not at all.”

“Then tell me who hurt you, so I can kick their ass,” Eliot demands.

“No one hurt me,” Jonas repeats. “Honest.”

Eliot reaches out and Jonas isn’t scared, he isn’t. A warm hand grips his shoulder and a finger tilts Jonas's head until he meets Eliot’s gaze. “If you ever need anything, you come to me or to John. Got it?”

Jonas nods and feels his smile falter just a little. “Got it.”

Eliot’s arms slide around him, but before Jonas could really register the hug, the other man is already pulling back and leading Jonas back to the living room. The Jell-o is still there and John gives it, and him, a questioning look.

Jonas swallows but smiles again and accepts the Jell-o. He settles down onto the couch next to John, and this time, when he eats a spoonful of the jiggle-y dessert, it doesn’t taste quite as good as it usually does.

-0-

“So what are you doing for Turkey Day?” Cam asks as they wander through the woods on yet another planet. Jonas will never say anything, but he’s really starting to hate trees and dirt and the way everything always seemed to end terribly.

“John and Eliot invited me over,” Jonas answers. “You?”

“Goin’ home to Kansas. Daniel and Teal’c are coming with me,” Cam tells him. “You’re welcome to come, too.”

Cam doesn’t approve of John and Eliot. It doesn’t matter that the other man has never met them, his disapproval hangs heavily in the air whenever Jonas mentions them anyway.

“Thanks for the offer, Colonel,” Jonas says with a smile. “But I already told them I’d be there.”

Cam sighs. “Well, they better have pie. It’s an American tradition.”

Jonas has read all about Thanksgiving, both what really happened, and how it’s celebrated today. He’s really looking forward to cranberry sauce. John had said it was like cranberry Jell-o, and then Eliot had thrown a spoon at his partner before telling Jonas that it wasn’t at all like cranberry Jell-o. Jonas is intrigued either way.

“Eliot mentioned something about pie,” Jonas tells him.

“Jonas--” Cam breaks off abruptly. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Of course,” Jonas answers.

“And just…be careful, okay?”

“Be careful of what?”

Cam stares at him for a moment and then shakes his head. “Nothing, just…watch your back, alright?”

Jonas shrugs. “Okay.”

Cam sighs. “Okay.”

-0-

John is a professor at a local university. It’s private and John teaches mathematics and aeronautical design, which is all Jonas really knows about what he does. A _Google_ search of John’s name had come up with multiple articles, books, and awards for mathematics and design. John is big in the academic circles.

A _Google_ search of Eliot’s name had revealed nothing. Not that Jonas really thinks it would have. The one picture he’d found online of Eliot is with John at an awards ceremony, and even that’s blurry. Jonas is pretty sure it has been altered, because a copy of it sits in John and Eliot’s living room and he could make out both men just fine in that one.

SG1 has the week of Thanksgiving off, and Jonas sort of does by default. When SG1 isn’t there, there are a lot less people on base; most of those people being doctors, nurses, and back-up Marines. So Jonas has a week with nothing to do. It’s raining outside, and so cold that Jonas thinks for sure he’ll freeze. It never got this cold on Langara.

But he’s bored and John had extended an open invitation to Jonas to visit him at the university, so Jonas bundles himself up and then bikes the forty-five minutes it takes to get there. He’s memorized a map of the college and hopes that John had meant it when he said Jonas could stop by at any time.

It’s easy to find John’s office. It’s the one with four girls lined up outside. Jonas smiles politely as he bypasses them and sticks his head inside. It takes a second, but John looks up and Jonas catches his eye. John grins and waves him in, halting the student with him mid-word.

Jonas enters hesitantly. John’s office is a lot bigger than the one Jonas works out of at the SGC. It’s bigger than General Landry’s, too. It has a couch and three white boards and a bunch of chairs. John’s desk is large, but not cluttered, and John looks right at home there, glasses perched on his nose.

John stands up as Jonas nears the desk. He pulls Jonas into a short hug, greeting him. “What’s up?”

Jonas shrugs. “I’m off work this week, and thought I’d come see your office.”

“You biked here, in the freezing cold, to see my office?” John asks, then frowns. “Where’s your bike? You didn’t leave it outside, right?”

“It’s in the hallway,” Jonas says sheepishly. “The sign outside said something about a bike permit…”

“You can bring it in here if you want.” John gestures to a bare corner. “I have office hours for another twenty minutes, and then a short break, and then my last class. I’ll be done around four, if you want to wait. I’ll drive you home.”

It’s a little after one thirty in the afternoon and it’s either stay here and watch John teach, or go back to his cold, lonely apartment. Jonas smiles. “I’ll wait.”

“Cool.” John points towards a bookcase. “If you want to read, you’re more than welcome to anything I have.”

Jonas wanders over to the bookcases and peruses the contents before selecting a few books. John gives him a wink and Jonas flushes, taking his books over to an empty chair and setting them down. He goes out and retrieves his bike, parking it in John’s office, before settling down with the chosen books.

“Interesting read?”

Jonas looks up a while later to see John standing over him, an amused look on his face. “When did you write this?”

John takes the seat next to Jonas’s and reaches over to bend the book so he can see the cover. “That one? About ten years ago.”

“It’s fascinating,” Jonas says, smiling wide.

John laughs a little. “I’m glad you think so. If only my students had the same interest…”

“They seemed pretty interested to me.”

John rolls his eyes and holds up his left hand--bare of any jewelry. “They think I’m single.”

“Because you don’t have a…wedding ring?”

“Yup,” John answers easily.

“How come you don’t have one?”

John leans back in his chair. “You know, Jonas, you always ask the hard questions.”

“I don’t mean to,” Jonas frowns. “I didn’t realize--”

“It’s fine,” John says, cutting him off. “I guess the easiest answer is that it’s not legal for two men to marry each other in Colorado.”

“Is it legal in other states?”

“A few,” John tells him.

“Can you get married there and have it be legal here?”

John sighs. “Sort of, but not really. That’s a really complicated answer.”

“So you and Eliot aren’t married because you _can’t_ get married?” Jonas asks.

John is silent for a moment. “There’s…there’s nothing Eliot can’t do if he really wants to,” he says finally. “I think he’s fine with the way things are.”

“Are you fine with it?”

John shrugs and sinks a little lower in his chair. “Eliot doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to, and when he commits himself it’s wholeheartedly. But he’s never stayed in one place as long as he has with me. And he’s young, you know? There’s five years between us. Sometimes I feel like he wants to move on, but just doesn’t because of me.”

“How long have you two been together?”

John turns his head and looks out the window. “Almost five years.”

“He seems pretty happy to me.”

“I hope so,” John says quietly. “But nothing keeps him here.”

“You do,” Jonas argues.

John looks at Jonas and smiles sadly. “But for how long?”

Jonas bites his lip. “John, why did you ask to sit with me?”

“That, Jonas,” John says, patting Jonas's knee. “Is a story for another time. My class starts in ten minutes and I still have to walk over there. Want to come?”

Jonas smiles and nods. “Sure.” He gestures to the books in his lap. “Can I borrow these?”

John laughs. “You can keep them.”

-0-

Jonas loves to watch Eliot cook. There’s a black bandana around his head and an apron around his waist, and Eliot uses a knife like he was born with one in his hand. He also doesn’t seem to mind that Jonas likes to watch him. Sometimes he even talks as he cooks, teaching Jonas about different techniques, or what flavors went well together. Today he’s talking about something else though.

“So Parker’s younger than me,” Eliot says, peeling potatoes, a task that Jonas is helping him with. “And she likes to think she’s a pick-pocket, so watch your stuff around her. She won’t take anything permanently, but you never know.”

“What’s a pick-pocket?” Jonas asks.

“Thief,” Eliot clarifies.

“Oh.”

“And Hardison is good with computers and shit. I’m sure he’ll talk your ear off about it.”

“And these are people you work with?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah.”

“Friends?”

Eliot snorts. “Co-workers.”

“It’s nice of you to have us all over.”

“Well, they didn’t have anywhere else to be, and I’m sure if I didn’t invite them over, they’d sit at home eating Chinese food and watching crappy movies.”

“Still,” Jonas insists. He bumps his shoulder with Eliot’s. “It’s nice of you.”

“Just peel your damn potatoes, Quinn,” Eliot growls, but Jonas sees a hint of a smile.

John steps into the room, a bottle of beer in his hand as he looks on in amusement. “Sure I can’t help with anything?”

“Never again, J,” Eliot says. “You’re a menace in my kitchen.”

John holds his hands up. “I’m happy to watch.”

“Go back to your football.”

“It’s halftime,” John says. “When are Parker and Hardison coming over?”

“Four,” Eliot answers. “Knowing them, they’ll be early.”

Jonas finishes peeling his potatoes and moves around the counter to stand with John as Eliot cuts them up and puts them into a pot. “Are you going to make cranberry sauce?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Eliot responds.

John laughs and slings an arm around Jonas’s shoulder. “He’s a grouch when he’s cooking, Jonas. Don’t mind him.”

“I am not a grouch.”

Just then the door opens and Parker and who Jonas assumes to be Hardison spills into the room. They’re each holding a pie and Hardison has a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Damn it, Hardison,” Eliot says, looking up. “You’re three hours early.”

“Blame Parker,” Hardison says unapologetically. He walks into the kitchen and sets the pie and the wine on the counter and makes to hug Eliot but stops at the other man’s glare. Parker has no such qualms and sets her pie down before leaping at Eliot. Eliot puts down his knife and catches her before Jonas even has time to blink.

“Get off me, Parker,” Eliot growls.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” She says cheerfully. She slides down Eliot’s body and when she’s standing on her own two feet again she turns to Jonas. “Hi, I’m Parker.”

“Jonas,” he answers, shaking her hand.

“Alec Hardison,” her accompanier says. “But most people call me Hardison.”

Jonas takes his hand. “Jonas Quinn. And, uh, people just call me Jonas.”

“Nice to meet you, Jonas,” Hardison says, dropping his hand. “So how do you know Eliot?”

Jonas shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets. He looks up at John who just smirks and takes a sip of his beer. “Met them at a bar,” Jonas finally answers. “And you work with him?”

“Yup,” Parker answers for him. She starts munching on a carrot stick and Jonas wonders where and when she had gotten it. He’s positive that her hands had been empty just a second ago.

“Parker!” Eliot barks. “We talked about this.” He looks up at John. “Take them with you so that I can finish cooking in peace.”

John laughs and says, “Want to make those upgrades to the computer you mentioned before, Alec?”

Hardison laces his fingers together and inverts his hands stretching them out, cracking his knuckles. “Is it still set up in the office?”

“Yup. Just let me get another beer and I’ll meet you there,” John says. “And take Parker with you.”

Parker pouts but follows Hardison out of the room. Eliot retrieves a beer out of the fridge for John and hands it over, along with two orange sodas. John leans over the counter and Eliot doesn’t hesitate to lean in and kiss John softly on the lips. Jonas politely looks away. A moment later John is gone and it’s just him and Eliot again.

Jonas sits down on a stool across from Eliot and accepts the bottle of water that Eliot pushes over to him. “Eliot?”

“What?”

“How did you and John meet?”

Eliot looks up from whatever he’s making, Jonas isn’t quite sure what it is. He meets Jonas's eyes and a smile appears on his face. “I met him on the job. I was working on something that involved the dean of the college that John works at. I ran into him there. Then later he asked me out for a beer and I said yes, eventually.”

“Were you always homosexual?” Jonas asks.

“Who says homosexual anymore?” Eliot scoffs. “And I’ve always been bi.”

“And John?”

“Gay,” Eliot answers. “As far as I know.” He looks Jonas up and down. “What about you?”

Jonas isn’t sure how to answer that. On Langara there isn’t any such thing as homosexuality. Learning of it on Earth had been quite a shock, but Jonas thinks that a planet with as many people as Earth has, probably doesn’t have to worry about reproducing like so many other planets did. He’s never labeled himself as anything, because there was only one label.

“I…” Jonas frowns. On Langara there had been a girl that he’d been in love with. He’d lost her to the Ori plague and hadn’t looked at anyone since then. “Heterosexual,” Jonas says finally.

“You don’t sound very sure,” Eliot notes.

“I’ve only loved one girl,” Jonas explains. “That makes me heterosexual, right?”

Eliot shrugs. “I’ve only loved one man. That doesn’t mean I don’t like women.”

“I’m not sure then,” Jonas says pensively. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’re really weird, you know that, right?” Eliot asked with a grin.

“Sorry,” Jonas apologizes.

“If it helps at all, John is pretty sure you’re playing for his team.”

“Playing for his team?”

“Gay,” Eliot clarifies. “And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“How can I be gay if I loved a woman?”

“Ever fuck her?” Eliot asks bluntly.

“No, we were…” Jonas searches for Tau’ri phrases. “… engaged to be married. She died before our bonding.”

“Sorry,” Eliot says quietly.

Jonas hasn’t thought of Rossalyn in months and he feels a stab of pain in his chest at her loss. She had died so suddenly and Jonas thinks she probably took his heart with her. He swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

“How long ago did you lose her?”

“A year,” Jonas answers.

“That sucks. Sorry, man,” Eliot says again.

Jonas pushes thoughts of Rosslyn away. “Need any more help?”

“There’s some sweet potatoes with your name on them,” Eliot answers, pushing the potato peeler at him again.

“I’ve never had a sweet potato,” Jonas says, standing up.

“First time for everything.”

-0-

Jonas works with Daniel a lot. He likes Daniel, well enough, and the other man is a fount of information just waiting to spill over, and Jonas is a sponge just waiting to soak it all up, so it works. Sometimes when Daniel doesn’t want to go on a mission, Jonas would go instead. It eventually got to the point where they take turns with SG1. Daniel likes it because he gets to spend more time on his research. Jonas likes it because it’s a change of pace, and Teal’c is really cool to talk to.

Cam is kind of like an older brother, always teaching Jonas something new about Earth culture. He would bring Jonas little things, homemade cookies from his mom, flyers for book readings, or a sports magazine. Jonas learns more about Tau’ri culture talking to Cam than he ever did reading those books on Colorado.

If Cam is the older brother, than Sam is the older sister. She's the one who has really taken Jonas under her wing at the Mountain. Jonas is in her lab more often than not, and she's the one who Jonas goes to with most of his questions. She has patience and answers that are more thought out than Cam’s and less detailed than Daniel’s. Sam is kind of Jonas's hero, although he's never told her that.

In the months that Jonas has been on Earth, Daniel, Sam, Cam, and Teal’c have become a family of sorts, along with John and Eliot. It's in December that Jonas finally feels like he belongs somewhere else now. Earth is still foreign to him, and Langara is still his home, but he doesn’t feel quite as out of place as he had when he'd first come here. He doesn’t feel like he's doing everything wrong anymore.

Jonas knocks on the open door to Sam’s lab. She looks up and smiles at him and Jonas is struck with the thought that she's really pretty. “Hey, Jonas. What can I help you with?”

Jonas steps into the lab and heads for her. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Sure.”

Jonas scratches the back of his neck. “I…I’m not very good with shopping yet…there’s so much stuff in Tau’ri stores. I was wondering--”

“--If I’d go Christmas shopping with you?” Sam finishes warmly. “Sure.”

Jonas blinks. “Wow, thank you.”

“No problem. Are you free to go this Friday?”

He nods. “That would be great. Thank you, Sam.”

“No problem. I have a few things to pick up as well,” she smiles. “Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Then come help me with these energy calculations. I’ve been talking to a friend and together we’ve come up with…”

-0-

Shopping on Earth isn’t like anything Jonas has ever experienced before. There are so many people and so many stores, and just so much _stuff_ that he's never sure where to start. He still has problems grocery shopping and really just buys the same things every week.

He sticks close to Sam as they make their way through the mall together. Jonas is paid pretty well by the SGC and he has very little financial responsibilities as they pay for his transportation, housing, utilities, and cell phone. He pays for food and his non-SGC clothes.

“Do you know what you want to buy for people?” Sam asks.

Jonas nods. “I have a list.”

“Great,” she says easily. He pulls the list out and hands it to her. She looks it over before saying, “I think we can probably get all of this stuff here. I’m not sure about the last thing, but I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

Jonas grins. “Cool.”

“Very cool.”

-0-

Cam invites him to his parent’s house for Christmas. Jonas declines again, but this time it isn’t because he has a better offer, he just wants to stay home and sleep. He and Sam have been working on calculations for subspace energy for the better part of the month and are nowhere near the end. Every step forward feels like two steps back and Jonas just wants to spend his week off sleeping.

He gives his teammates their presents on the last day before break and mails John’s and Eliot’s to them. Jonas has checked a bunch of books out of the library, and has a few more that he's borrowed from John, and he plans to read them all during his week off. He also has some Jell-o for Christmas day.

By December twenty-fifth, Jonas has worked his way through three-fourths of his pile of books, and thinks he’s going to need some more for the rest of his break. He also worked his way through the large bowl of Jell-o he's made, and the instant mashed potatoes that he’d cooked for dinner. They don’t hold a candle to Eliot’s, but Jonas has yet to have any food that does.

He's laying on his couch with the Weather Channel on when the doorbell rings. He slides off and shuffles over to the door. He looks through the small door hole like Eliot tells him to do, and blinks in surprise at John and Eliot’s figures huddled together on the other side. It’d started snowing a week or so ago, and at first Jonas has been beyond excited about it, as there’s no snow on Langara, but now he's just cold all the time. Plus, riding his bike in the snow is exceptionally difficult.

He opens the door and John smiles at him while Eliot pushes past Jonas and into the apartment. John follows and Jonas shuts the door behind him.

Eliot frowns as he looks around before his eyes land on Jonas. “No tree?”

“Tree?” Jonas repeated.

“Christmas tree.”

“Oh, no,” Jonas answers. “I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“You sent us gifts,” John pointed out.

Jonas furrows his brow. “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“You didn’t have to,” John says slowly. “But we appreciate it nonetheless, thank you.”

Jonas beams. “You’re welcome.”

“Why the hell are you holed up in your apartment by yourself?” Eliot asks. “I thought you said your friend asked you if you wanted to go home with him for Christmas.”

“He did,” Jonas confirms. “But I didn’t want to go.”

“Get a better offer?”

Jonas shakes his head. “I just want to sleep. Things have been stressful at work lately.”

“You were going to sleep through Christmas?” John asks.

“It’s just another Ear--” Jonas cuts himself off. “Just another holiday.”

“No family?” Eliot asks knowingly.

“Yeah,” Jonas agrees sadly. “No family.”

Eliot rolls his eyes. “You have us, dumbass. Now get some stuff together, we’re taking you back to our place for the night.”

“The night?”

“Yeah, bring a change of clothes,” Eliot says.

-0-

Eliot and John’s guest room is nice. The bed is comfortable and the walls are a deep blue, nothing at all like rooms at the SGC that are all grey and standard and uninviting. Jonas settles under the blankets and shivers. It's so cold. At this point Jonas is pretty sure it isn’t as cold as he thinks it is, but that doesn’t stop him from shivering. And as nice as John and Eliot’s guest room is, there’s only one quilt on the bed. Jonas remembers seeing a blanket on the back of the couch, though.

He quietly gets out of bed and makes his way into the living room. The blanket is there and Jonas grabs it. He turns around and his heart skips a beat when he finds Eliot standing in front of him.

“Cold?” Eliot asks.

Jonas nods. “Yes, sorry. Is it okay if I take the blanket?”

“It’s fine. We have more in the hall closet,” Eliot says.

“It’s a lot colder here than I’m used to,” Jonas explains softly as he follows Eliot back down the hallway. Eliot opens the closet door and pulls out two blankets then gestures Jonas back to the guest room. Jonas spreads the blanket in his arms out across the quilt and Eliot follows suit with the two in his arms.

Jonas climbs back into bed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Eliot hesitates for a split second and then bends down and presses a soft kiss to Jonas's forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jonas answers, but Eliot is already gone by the time he manages to say it.

-0-

Even though Eliot is more standoffish than John, he isn’t as reserved physically. John is full of charming smiles and seems the more friendly of the two, but it's Eliot who gives Jonas a hug on his way out the door. It's Eliot who has kissed Jonas twice on the forehead. It's Eliot whose arm settles on the couch behind Jonas while they sit comfortably together.

He's never had friends quite like John and Eliot. Jonas feels like half the time he's missing something around them, and then half the time he feels like he's in on the secret despite not knowing what it is. He likes getting hugs from Eliot and talking about math with John. They make him feel…cherished. Jonas hasn’t felt like that in a long time, not since his parents died when he was ten.

There’s a knock on the door and Jonas pulls himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“We’re making breakfast, Jonas,” John says. “If you want any.”

“I’ll be right out,” he answers.

“No rush,” John tells him.

Jonas runs a hand through his hair and exhales. He isn’t sure what he's doing here, in John and Eliot’s lives. He doesn’t know why they chose to sit down at his table and talk to him. But they did and here he is and Jonas can’t help but feel like they want something from him, are waiting for him to do something. Jonas just wishes he knew what it is.

He sits up and his bare feet touch the cold floor as he leaves his room and makes his way down the hall. After a quick stop to the bathroom, Jonas wanders back out to the kitchen and finds John sitting at the counter, enjoying a cup of coffee, while Eliot cooks. John gestures Jonas towards an empty mug and the coffee pot and Jonas pours himself a cup. He takes a seat next to John and watches Eliot cook.

“Get enough sleep?” John asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You?” Jonas asks.

John gives him a look that Jonas can’t interpret. “Could have been better.”

“Bacon or sausage, Jonas?” Eliot cuts in. “With your eggs.”

“Is there toast?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll just have toast,” Jonas answers.

Eliot shot him a look. “You should eat.”

“I read a book…” Jonas trails off as both men groan in unison. “What?”

“Nothing,” John says fondly.

“It’s about the treatment of animals on production farms,” Jonas tells them. “It says people should be vegans or vegetarians. So I’m a vegetarian now.”

John pinches the bridge of his nose as Eliot rolls his eyes. “We have cage free eggs,” John says.

“You do?” Jonas thinks for a second. “Hormone free, too?”

“Yes,” John answers. “Eliot likes fresh food.”

Jonas smiles. “I’ll take some eggs with my toast then.”

Jonas makes a mental note to do more research on Earth food. He makes a second note to bike to the library to get some more books. Or maybe John or Eliot could drop him off at one and he can walk home from there.

“John?” Jonas asks as he pulls out the jam. He takes the knife that Eliot hands him and gives him a smile in return.

“Hmm?”

“Can you drop me off at the library instead of my apartment?” Jonas asks.

“The library that’s in the opposite direction of your place?” Eliot asks as he flips an omelet closed.

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll what--walk home?”

“Yeah.”

Eliot sighs and goes back to cooking, so Jonas looks over at John. John blows across the top of his coffee. “What do you need at the library?”

“Books.”

“I got you that damn i-thingy,” Eliot grumbles. “What do you need books for?”

John exhales loudly. “I can wait for you, Jonas. It’s really not a problem.”

Jonas grins. “Thanks.”

“Make your toast,” Eliot says. “Everything else is ready.” He shoves some butter at Jonas and Jonas smiles as he drops some bread slices into the toaster.

-0-

It figures that with the Goa’uld out of the way and the Ori defeated, it wouldn’t take long for a new bad guy to appear. For a while Jonas thinks it’s going to be the Lucian alliance, but they seem to have quieted down for now and instead SG1 finds themselves running into a race that called themselves the Nolvern.

The Nolvern have a bunch of Goa’uld weapons, along with other bits of technology that Jonas hasn’t seen before, and they aren’t afraid to use them. Apparently the Nolvern are trying to establish a presence on each world, taking some of the crops or other produced materials for their own, at the end of a gun instead of through trade. Villages that resist are burned down, and Jonas is tired of gating to a new planet only to find soot where buildings used to lay, and burned bones where people once stood.

The IOA doesn’t want to get involved in yet another Milky Way dispute, and SG1 has been ordered to avoid the Nolvern at all costs. Too bad the Nolvern didn’t seem all that keen on avoiding them as well.

SG1 is currently holed up in a cave north of the gate, and Jonas winces a little bit every time he hears someone else scream before it's quickly followed with the sound of a gun. He's huddled between Cam and Sam, and Sam’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders and Jonas is pressed close against her. He tries to take the comfort she's offering but it's hard. Jonas knows that with another hour there won’t be anything left of the village.

“Try not to think about it,” Sam says softly.

“I can’t,” Jonas whispers. “Those are _people_ , Sam. There are children.”

“I know,” she soothes.

“We can help them, Sam,” Jonas says. “We can do something.”

“General Landry--”

“These are _people_ ,” Jonas repeats brokenly.

Sam is silent for a moment before nodding. “You’re right.”

“Carter,” Cam says. “We have our orders.”

“Jonas is right,” Sam argues. “We can’t just leave them there when we can help them. We’ve disobeyed orders for a lot less, Cam.”

Cam sighs and looks over to Teal’c who is as stoic as ever. “I agree with JonasQuinn. If we can do something than I believe it's our duty to do so.”

“We need a plan then,” Cam says. “We can’t just go in guns blazing.”

Sam smiles suddenly. “I have an idea.”

-0-

Jonas collapses down onto his couch. It’s been a long day. People had died--Jonas had almost died, Sam had almost died, and then they came back and received a firm lecture on disobeying orders before Landry subtly approved. Now he’s off for the next two days.

It's Tuesday, but for some reason all he wants to do is see John and Eliot. Jonas fights the urge to call them, shoving his cell phone in between the couch cushions. He turns his head to look outside. It's snowing again, and Jonas is bundled up in several layers trying to stave off the cold.

He grabs his ski cap and slides it back onto his head before heading for the door. It would take a while to walk to the pub, and Jonas is sure to be frozen solid by the time he reaches it, but it's a bad day, and on bad days he goes to McRory’s. So he locks up his apartment and starts walking.

Sure enough, by the time he reaches the bar, Jonas can’t feel his fingers or his feet and his cheeks are freezing cold. There’s one other person in the pub and the bartender takes one look at Jonas and plops a glass of whiskey on the counter. Jonas smiles and hands over his credit card. A swipe later and Jonas shoves it back into his wallet and carries his whiskey over to a table.

He sits down and stares at the liquid like he always does. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of people crying for help and the images of people laying dead on the ground.

“It works better when you drink it.”

Jonas's eyes fly open and land on John, who is sitting across from him. Eliot is close behind with two pints of beer in his hand. He places one down in front of John and takes a long drink from the other.

“What are you doing here?” Jonas asks.

John shrugs. “Having a beer.” The answer is simple enough but for some reason, Jonas doesn’t believe him.

“What brings you here?” Eliot asks, eyeing him.

Jonas shrugs. “Bad day.”

Eliot raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Anything we can do?” John asks.

“Not unless you have the power to make the govern--” Jonas cuts himself off abruptly. “No, sorry.”

He doesn’t miss the way that Eliot’s eyes narrowed. “You work for the government?”

“I…” Jonas looked away.

“Damn it, Jonas,” Eliot says harshly.

“They helped me!” Jonas says defensively. “When my home was destroyed and I had nowhere else to go. What was I supposed to do, Eliot? I had nothing. The clothes on my back were in pieces, I…I had just lost everything I’d ever known. My people were wiped out. I just…What was I supposed to do?” He finishes brokenly.

“Why wasn’t any of this in the news?” Eliot asks. “I haven’t heard anything about people being wiped out.”

Jonas looks up at him and John, both have confused looks on their faces. “It’s nothing. Forget it. I shouldn’t be talking about any of this.”

And he really shouldn’t, but the day has been long and Jonas is tired and missing Langara and all he can hear are screams and all he can see are bodies. And he just wants back all the awe he had the first time he was on Earth. When the Weather Channel was still mysterious, and everything felt grand and marvelous. Because right now all anything feels is cold and achy. Jonas wants so bad to go home, except he doesn’t have one of those anymore.

He has a mailbox with his name on it and an address where he can be found, but it isn’t home. Earth isn’t home. And Jonas has never felt that more keenly than he does right now.

He stands up, without a second glance to John and Eliot, and all but runs out of the pub. Cold air hits him and Jonas feels tears prick his eyes as he shoves his hat back on and his hands back into his gloves. He starts the long walk against the wind back to his apartment.

“Jonas!”

Jonas doesn’t turn around at the sound of his name. He doesn’t feel up to company, and all he wants to do is be alone. He doesn’t want to have to watch what he's saying, doesn’t want to worry about secrets and planets and aliens and a hundred other things that apparently the people of Earth aren’t ready to handle.

“Jonas! Will you just fucking stop?” That was Eliot.

He isn’t surprised when two hands grab his arms, halting him. Or when John and Eliot come into view, blocking his path. Jonas wipes hastily at his eyes and knows he isn’t fooling anyone.

“Look,” John says gently. “We don’t care who you work for, Jonas. You just caught us by surprise.”

Jonas nods. “Okay.”

“Come home with us,” John suggests. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Except alone is definitely what Jonas should be. He breaks free of their hold, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “I won’t be good company.”

“We’re not asking you to be,” John says. “If you want to take a nap in the guestroom, that’s fine with us. Or even lock yourself in there, that’s fine, too. But we’re here, Jonas. We’re here for you.”

“I don’t want to talk about anything,” Jonas says quietly.

“You won’t have to,” Eliot puts in.

“Yeah?”

“Promise,” John says.

Jonas sighs but nods. Their guest room is way more appealing than the walk home.

**

“Jonas?” Eliot calls through the door.

Jonas is curled up on the bed, facing away from the door, so he turns his head to answer. “Yeah?”

“I’m coming in.”

Jonas faces the wall again and stares blankly at it as the door opens. He hears it nick shut and then the bed behind him sinks as Eliot sits down. A warm hand lands on his shoulder. Then the mattress dips again as Eliot’s body is presses up against him from behind, an arm over Jonas's waist.

Jonas frowns. “Eliot, what…?”

“John says he sleeps better with me there and that you probably aren’t sleeping all that well,” Eliot tells him.

“John sent you in here? To sleep with me?” Jonas asks, confused.

Eliot’s grip tightens. “I chose to come in here.”

And all at once Jonas feels warm and safe. Eliot kisses the back of his neck and Jonas shivers a little. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that there is a man pressing up behind him. That he's in bed with a _man_. But this isn’t just any man, it's _Eliot_ , and somewhere along the line Eliot has fallen into the small group of people that Jonas trusts with his life.

Almost against his will, Jonas finds himself closing his eyes, sleep slowly but surely taking over his body. He feels Eliot’s lips against his neck again before there’s only blackness.

-0-

He wakes to the feeling of someone carding fingers through his hair. It feels nice and Jonas keeps his eyes shut, and his breathing slow because he doesn’t want the feeling to stop.

When he finally turns his head, he's surprised to find John there and not Eliot. “Eliot was called into work,” John explains.

A quick glance at the bedside table. “It’s midnight,” Jonas rasps, voice heavy with sleep. “He works at midnight?”

“His job keeps him on-call all hours of the day,” John tells him.

Jonas wonders if it means anything that out of the three of them, John is the only one with a job he can talk about. John’s hand is still in Jonas's hair and he turns to face the wall again. “Why did you ask to sit at my table?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” Jonas answers.

“Ask me again when you’re ready to hear the answer.”

“I’m ready now.”

“If you were ready,” John says gently. “You wouldn’t be asking, Jonas.”

“What if I’m never ready? Will you tell me then?”

John is quiet for a moment. “We’ll see, Jonas,” he says finally.

This time when a kiss is pressed to the crown of his head, Jonas isn’t even surprised, despite it being John and not Eliot. He just closes his eyes and lets sleep overtake him again.

-0-

Jonas is at John and Eliot’s house; it‘s Friday. John is a little bit drunk, from what Jonas can tell. Eliot is as sober as he ever is, and doesn’t seem to mind the way John stretches out on top of him on the couch, happy and relaxed. Every few minutes John leans in for a kiss and Eliot rolls his eyes but returns the gesture. Jonas thinks it's kind of sweet how gentle Eliot is with John.

Jonas stretches out on the couch he's on and stares up at the ceiling. A blanket lands on his stomach suddenly and he looks over to see Eliot looking at him. Jonas grins and arranges the blanket over himself. He can’t wait for summer to come around again.

A phone rings, breaking the silence that has settled, and Jonas watches Eliot fish a cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah,” he answers roughly. “I’m at home, Hardison, where do you think I am?… When?… No, I don’t want to talk to Sophie… I’ll be there in the morning. Now if you don’t mind… Damn it, Hardison! No, you can’t talk to John… I’m hanging up…” And with that Jonas hears a beep and Eliot tosses his phone onto the coffee table.

John laughs softly. “He only does that to annoy you, you know.”

“He has no reason to talk to you,” Eliot growls.

John just smiles. “I love how jealous you get.”

“I am _not_ jealous.”

“What do you think, Jonas?” John asks him. “Is he jealous?”

“I’m staying out of it,” Jonas answers with a laugh.

“Wise man,” John grins.

A rare laugh breaks out of Eliot and Jonas watches as the other man runs a hand through John’s hair before whispering something softly to him. Jonas looks away and thinks about Cam’s offer to set him up with a friend. He isn’t in a rush to start dating again after Rossalyn, but his heart is starting to ache a little, watching John and Eliot.

-0-

“How’d your date with Vanessa go?” Cam asks with a grin. He snaps his towel against Jonas's butt as Jonas slides his belt through the loops.

Jonas pulls his t-shirt on and pushes his head through the hole before answering. “She’s nice.”

“Of course she’s nice, Quinn,” Cam says, taking a seat on a bench near Jonas. He bends down to lace up his boots. “Would I set you up with someone mean?”

Jonas shrugs. “How come you aren’t dating her?”

“Not my type, man,” Cam answers. “She’s sweet and all, but just a little _too_ innocent, if you know what I mean. Figured she's more your stream than mine.”

“Ah.”

“You gonna see her again?”

“She says she'll call me,” Jonas says.

Cam nods knowingly. “Tough luck, man. I thought for sure you two would hit it off.”

Jonas takes from his tone of voice that Cam doesn’t think Vanessa will call. It’s only been a few days since he's seen her, but she didn’t seem like the kind of person who would lie about that. “We did.”

Cam gives him a pat on the shoulder before leaving him alone in the locker room to finish getting dressed.

-0-

“What’s it mean when a girl says she’ll call you?” Jonas asks.

Eliot looks at him while John raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I went on a date with Vanessa and she said she would call me,” Jonas supplies. “When I told Cam, he said ‘tough luck’ and that he thought we’d hit it off. It sounded like he didn’t think she'd call me.”

“You went on a date?” John asks.

“When?” Eliot demands.

Jonas shrugs. “Last Saturday.”

“You went on a date last Saturday?” John asks again, frowning.

“Cam set me up.”

John sighs and Eliot answers, “If a girl says she’s gonna call, it means she probably isn’t. She’s just being polite.”

“Oh.” Jonas feels sad about that. “ _Oh_.”

“Sorry,” John says. Although Jonas doesn’t think he sounds very sorry at all. “We have Jell-o.”

Jonas wonders if it means anything that he's more interested in the Jell-o than in feeling bad that Vanessa isn’t going to call him. “Blue?”

“Yup,” John says. “Top shelf.”

Jonas grins and gets up to get the Jell-o. When he turns around, Eliot is there and two hands settle themselves onto Jonas's hips, holding him in place. “No more dates,” Eliot says seriously.

“At least not with Vanessa,” Jonas nods.

“Not with anyone,” Eliot corrects darkly. With that he leans in and it takes a moment for Jonas to process that he's being kissed. He blinks but Eliot doesn’t pull back. Instead, his fingers dig into Jonas, gripping him tightly as he deepens the kiss.

When Eliot does finally pull back, Jonas is breathing heavily and can’t think of anything except the way Eliot’s mouth felt on his. And then suddenly all he can think about is-- “John!”

Eliot gives him a look and then jerks his head to the side and Jonas turns to see John standing there with a smirk on his face. “Don’t stop on my account,” John says easily.

Jonas gapes at them both. “What?”

Eliot’s answer is to lean in again, covering Jonas's lips with his own once more. This time he's more aware of what is happening, and even more aware that John is watching them.

“Wait!” Jonas says, breaking away from Eliot. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Eliot asks in a hard voice.

“You’re a man,” Jonas blurts. “And you’re with John.”

“John doesn’t care,” Eliot says bluntly.

“In fact, John wants in on the action, too,” John adds.

“I don’t get it,” Jonas whispers. “I… What’s happening?”

“Eliot grew impatient,” John says with a flicker of annoyance as he walks towards them. “We were waiting for you to be ready.”

“Ready?” Jonas repeats, his mind working overtime. “Is this why you asked to sit at my table?”

John sighs. “Yes.”

Is this a game they play on Earth? Do other people do this? What do they want with him? More kissing? Are they using him? Jonas doesn’t understand this, doesn’t understand anything right now.

“Shit, Eliot,” John swears. “You couldn’t wait? You’re gonna give him an aneurysm or something.” John’s hand settles on Jonas's back and he tries to order his thoughts.

“He's going on dates,” Eliot says.

“He’s allowed to go on a fucking date,” John argues.

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Damn it, Sheppard,” Eliot says roughly.

Jonas still isn’t sure what’s happening. From everything he’s read, the Tau’ri paired up, they didn’t do whatever it is John and Eliot are doing with him.

“Jesus, Jonas,” John says, rubbing his back. “Breathe okay? You’re freaking me out.”

Jonas draws a shaky breath in. “I…” He looks at Eliot. “You kissed me.”

“Twice,” Eliot supplies, unapologetically.

Jonas isn’t sure about anything right now other than Eliot kissed him, and John wants to. “Why?”

“We like you,” John says.

“You--you can’t just go around kissing people!” Jonas exclaims. “It’s--I mean you’re…together. I… I don’t get it. I don’t understand. I--” _\--have to go talk to Sam_ , _\--have to get out of here_ , _\--need space_. There are so many ways to finish that sentence.

“Let’s talk about this,” John says softly. “Don’t go running out of here with your damn bike.”

“I… There’s nothing wrong with my bike,” Jonas snaps.

Eliot laughs abruptly. “Of course you would think that.”

Eliot’s hands slide from Jonas's waist into the back pockets of his jeans and he's being tugged closer to Eliot, John’s hand still heavy on his back. Eliot leans in again and this time Jonas has time to think about protesting, but all he does is kiss Eliot back. Eliot’s facial hair is a little scratchy and Jonas's arms are hanging awkwardly at his side, but Eliot’s lips are warm and this feels more like comfort than anything else, if Jonas can describe a kiss as comforting.

He's only minutely aware of John moving, but soon enough arms snake around his waist from behind, settling between his and Eliot’s bodies. Then a second pair of lips press against his neck and Jonas feels his knees grow weak. His brain still isn’t sure what’s happening, but his body doesn’t particularly seem to care at all.

When Eliot finally pulls back, Jonas is panting and Eliot rests their foreheads together. “You need to stop doing that,” Jonas says. “I can’t think.”

“That’s the point,” Eliot answers with a small grin.

John hooks his chin onto Jonas's shoulder and Jonas can feel him breathing softly as he hugs him from behind. He's still freaking out because this is John and Eliot. _John_ and _Eliot_. _JohnandEliot_. “John,” Jonas pleads.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t understand this. I can’t--” He takes a deep breath. “Please.”

“Eliot and I saw you a month before we approached you,” John begins quietly. “It's always the same; you would walk in, order a drink, stare at it, and then leave. We… We’d been wanting to approach you for a while, we were just waiting for the right time. You looked like you were having a pretty rough day when we came to the bar the night we met. That’s when we decided to test the waters.”

“Eliot called you darlin’,” Jonas remembers. “He only calls you that at home.”

“Good memory,” Eliot comments.

“We could tell you didn’t know we were together,” John explains. “So yeah, he added that in.”

“But you… It’s been months since we met,” Jonas breathes. “You were waiting all that time?”

“For a while we were going to give up, and just be your friend. You were so innocent, Jonas,” John says.

Eliot corrects him, “ _Are_ innocent.”

“Are innocent,” John agrees.

“What changed?”

He feels John shrug behind him. “We started thinking that maybe you needed us as much as we wanted you.”

“What _do_ you want from me?” Jonas whispers. “What are you asking for?”

Eliot kisses Jonas's forehead and he closes his eyes at the soft touch. “We’re asking you to give this a chance,” Eliot says, more gently than Jonas has ever heard him.

Jonas lets his head fall to the side of Eliot’s to rest on Eliot’s shoulder. “What happens if I can’t do this?” He asks, voice muffled by Eliot’s shirt.

“You won’t lose us as friends,” John answers. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Can I think about this?”

“Yes,” John says. He presses a kiss to Jonas's shoulder. “I know it’s a lot at once, Jonas.”

He turns his face into the side of Eliot’s neck and sees John and Eliot kiss out of the corner of his eye. It's short but Jonas can see both men gain a bit of reassurance from it. Slowly John unwraps himself from Jonas's body, hands lingering for a second before he withdraws completely. Eliot’s hands slide out of Jonas's pockets and his lips ghost Jonas's forehead again before he too steps away.

Jonas doesn’t feel empty, and he doesn’t feel like he's missing something. He only feels cold.

Eliot’s jacket lands on his shoulders and John is pressing a bowl of Jell-o into his hands and leading Jonas back to the table.

-0-

On Langara there hadn’t been anything like the internet and computers for research, there were only books. Books are what Jonas knows. He's comfortable with them. He likes the way he can carry them around with him. But then Eliot buys him an iPad for Christmas and John shows him how to download books onto it and suddenly Jonas can have a hundred books with him anywhere he goes. He's been slowly adjusting to using the new technology, rather than going to the library all the time.

Now he's using his iPad for research on three people together in a relationship. He _Googles_ ‘threesome’.

It isn’t something he’d ever thought he'd be researching. And Jonas is coming across a lot of words he didn’t know and some things that are more than a little troubling. It seems as though this actually isn’t all that common amongst the Tau’ri. And more than that, it seems like a lot of people are against two men together. He had thought it was standard on Earth to choose your partner, no matter the gender.

He rubs his forehead and sets aside his iPad. Jonas wonders how dense he is to not see this coming. Earth relations are just so mind-boggling though. Jonas isn’t sure he will ever understand them. Teal’c gave him the best advice out of everyone.

 __

“JonasQuinn,” he says gravely. “Do not sweat petty things, and do not pet sweaty things.”

“Um, okay,” Jonas answers, confused, but keeps that in mind.

“And do not try to make sense of the Tau’ri. There is none to be had.”

  
  


Jonas leans his head against the back of the couch and sighs. Does he want what John and Eliot are offering? He thinks he might if really understood it. Is it just sex? Is it just kisses and hands in pockets and blue Jell-o?

John and Eliot have years together without him. They know each other inside and out. Jonas is an outsider, an interloper, someone they might decide they don’t like. Jonas is worried that he might love them and they’ll just tire of him, leaving him behind as they move on together. He's just as worried that he _won’t_ love them and they’ll leave him behind.

He misses Tiron. His best friend from childhood, who had died from illness several years back. Tiron had always been a sounding board for him, and he always knew the right thing to say or do. On Earth Jonas never feels as though he gets anything right. And now, on this strange planet, Jonas is alone. And he's tired of being alone.

-0-

On Friday Jonas knocks at John and Eliot’s door. Eliot answers, which is a bit unusual as he's normally cooking when Jonas arrives. “John’s in the bathroom,” Eliot explains, locking the door behind Jonas. “What did you do to your arm?”

Jonas can’t really tell him that it had been broken off world when rocks fell on SG1 in a surprise land-slide, so he settles on, “I fell.”

Those words seem to stop Eliot in his tracks as his eyes narrow in on Jonas's face, his whole body tense. “What?”

“I fell,” Jonas repeats weakly.

“Who _the fuck_ thinks they can break your arm and get away with it?” Eliot explodes. “A name, Jonas. Give me a fucking name.”

Jonas backs up a little, eyes wide. “No one, Eliot. I promise. I fell, that‘s all it is.”

“I swear to god, if someone--”

“Hey!” John yells, jogging across the room. He puts himself in between Jonas and Eliot. “What’s the--jesus, what happened to your arm?”

“I fell,” Jonas says for a fourth time. “It’s really nothing.” He tucks the blue sling further into his jacket.

“People don’t just fall,” Eliot growls.

“I do,” Jonas argues.

“Did you bike over here with a broken arm?” John asks, a disapproving look on his face. “You could have called us, we would have picked you up.”

“Give me a name,” Eliot repeats darkly.

“Nothing happened, Eliot. I don’t--I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jonas says. “I don’t ask you about your black eyes, do I? About all of your other bruises?”

There’s an awkward silence before he hears John sigh while Eliot curses. “Shit.”

“Sorry,” Jonas mumbles. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

His arm is throbbing and he's been fighting a headache for a couple of hours and it's finally making itself known. And really, Jonas is supposed to be sleeping--Fraiser’s orders. Instead he biked in the rain to get to John and Eliot’s because…well, he isn’t sure why. He didn’t think Eliot would get so worked up over a broken arm. He takes a deep breath and feels himself sway as he tries to blink away the sudden bout of lightheadedness that has overtaken him.

“Jonas?” John asks worriedly.

He forces a smile to his face. “I’m fine.”

“Eliot,” John says.

There are suddenly hands on him and then Jonas is being lifted off of his feet into strong arms. Eliot takes long, sure strides across the room and down the hallway to the guest room. He gently set Jonas down and Jonas reaches a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind Eliot’s ear. Eliot sits down next to him and grabs Jonas's hand so he could lower it, pressing a kiss to the palm.

“I didn’t fall,” Jonas admits quietly.

“I know.”

“But no one hurt me either,” Jonas says seriously. “I was caught in a land-slide.”

“In Colorado Springs?” Eliot asks doubtfully.

Jonas shakes his head. “No. I was off-site yesterday. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“You would tell me if someone did hurt you, right?” Eliot responds.

Jonas swallows. “Yes.”

Eliot kisses Jonas's palm again. “Do we get to sign your cast?”

“Sign my cast?”

“It’s tradition,” Eliot says simply.

Jonas smiles. “Sure.”

“When you wake up, okay?”

“I’m not tired,” Jonas argues.

“Okay. Did they give you any pain killers?”

“Yeah, they’re in my pocket.”

Eliot doesn’t even ask before reaching into Jonas's jacket pocket and pulling out the pill bottle. John comes in with a glass of water and an extra blanket over his arm.

“When did you last take one?” Eliot asks, reading the directions on the side.

“With lunch.”

“You’re supposed to take one every four hours.”

“I am?” Jonas asks.

He reaches for the bottle, but instead Eliot pulls the lid off and shakes out a pill. He shoves it at Jonas along with the glass of water that had been in John‘s hand. “Swallow this.”

Jonas takes the pill and the water and downs them both, handing the empty glass back to Eliot. “Thanks.”

“Want us to get you when dinner’s ready?”

John spreads the blanket in his arms over Jonas and Jonas pulls it up a little. “Will you stay for a little while? The pills make me feel funny.”

John settles onto the bed next to Jonas, leaning against the headboard. His hand settles in Jonas's hair and gently massages his scalp. Eliot mirrors John’s position on the other side of him. Jonas felt warm and content as the medication began to work.

“Tell me something,” Jonas mumbles.

“What?” John asks.

“What’s Earth like? Other countries?”

“You haven’t been out of the US?” Eliot questions.

“Never been out of Colorado,” Jonas tells him sleepily. “Except for one time in Nevada.”

“Take a week off in the summer,” John says. “We’ll take you to California or something.”

“Take two weeks,” Eliot counters. “We’ll take you to Europe.”

Jonas smiles lazily. “Europe sounds nice. I’ve read about Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower and castles. But California sounds nice too--Cam was telling me about Disneyland and Hollywood and I read a book about the Golden Gate Bridge.”

“You have some strange reading habits. You know that, right?” Eliot asks.

“I like to learn,” Jonas tells him. “So many new things here.”

“Sometimes,” John says, carding his fingers through Jonas's hair. “You talk like you’re from another planet.”

“I--what?” Jonas asks, trying to push his way up out of the medication induced stupor.

“You just say things,” John says dismissively. “Or don’t know something.”

“Sorry,” Jonas apologizes. “I’ll try to be better.”

“We like you as you are,” John says gently.

“Really?” Jonas asks, eyes falling heavily shut.

“Yup.”

“I like you, too…as you are,” Jonas tells them.

He feels Eliot chuckle as John laughs. “Are you falling asleep?” Eliot asks. “Thought you said you weren’t tired.”

“I’m--” He yawns. “--not.”

John just laughs again. “Sleep.”

“Yawning doesn’t mean I’m tired,” Jonas protests. “There’s no actual link between yawning and needing sleep.”

“There is today,” Eliot says.

And since Jonas can no longer work up the strength to open his eyes, he figures Eliot is probably right.

-0-

Jonas hasn’t woken up with someone else in years. Not since he and Rosslyn had accidentally fallen asleep once on a rug near the fireplace. So it takes him a moment to realize that it isn’t a heavy blanket that is covering him, but instead, John’s arm is thrown over Jonas's waist, and Jonas is pressed up against Eliot’s side, with Eliot’s arm around both of them. He feels… He isn’t sure what he feels. Except the urge to pee really badly.

He eases his way out from under John and Eliot’s grasp and tries to quietly make his way out of the bed. He manages to sit up, before Eliot wakes, resting a warm hand on Jonas's back. “What’re you doin’?” He asks, his voice raspy with sleep and the accent that is so fascinating to Jonas is heavy on his lips.

“Bath--” Jonas licks his lips. “Bathroom.”

“Need help?”

“I’ve got it.”

“Sure?” Eliot presses.

“Yeah.”

Jonas makes his way to the foot of the bed and slides off, closing his eyes for a moment as he gets his footing. He walks to the bathroom, trying not to trip. When he flips on the light, it's brighter than he expects and it takes a moment to get his bearings.

A few minutes later he's shuffling back out of the room, hitting the light switch on his way. He pauses in the doorway to the guest room. In his absence, John has rolled into his spot, and Eliot has rolled onto his side. John is pressed up behind Eliot, arm over his waist, holding him close.

Eliot’s eyes open and he looks at Jonas. Jonas feels his chest ache in a way it hasn’t in years. Eliot lifts the end of the blanket up, in a clear invitation. Jonas cradles his arm against his body and shivers against the cold.

“Get in,” Eliot growls impatiently.

Jonas finds himself moving, walking towards the bed. He sits carefully down on the edge and Eliot pulls him flush against his body.

“Sleep,” Eliot breathes.

“Eliot--”

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he interrupts Jonas. “Go back to sleep.”

So Jonas does.

-0-

When Jonas wakes up, John is gone, but Eliot is there, sitting up against the wall. He doesn’t even ask before leaning down and giving Jonas a short kiss. “Mornin’,” he says, ruffling Jonas's hair.

Jonas blinks sleepily. “Where’s John?”

“Running,” Eliot answers, settling his hand at the nape of Jonas's neck and gently tugging on the hair there. “He goes out every morning, started a couple years back.”

“You don’t go with him?”

“He likes to run alone,” Eliot says. “I’m thinking of getting him a dog to run with.”

“I can’t imagine you with a dog.”

“Had horses growin’ up,” Eliot says, his accent coming through.

“Horses,” Jonas breathes. “I’ve seen pictures.”

Eliot tugs on his hair and Jonas looks up at him. “You’ve never seen a horse?”

Jonas shakes his head. “I haven’t seen any animals. Well, except for birds and Mrs. Holland’s dog.”

“Are you sure you’re not an alien?” Eliot asks.

“Um…”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding, Jonas. Next weekend, John and I will take you to the fucking zoo. I think they have horses, if they don’t, there’s a place I know that has some, we’ll take you there.”

“Really?” Jonas grins. “Will there be elephants? Cam says they’re huge.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll have elephants.”

“And giraffes? With the really long necks?”

“Seriously,” Eliot says. “How have you never seen these? You’re as weird as Parker sometimes.”

“I… Oh, sorry,” Jonas apologizes.

Eliot leans down and captures Jonas's lips in a rough kiss and Jonas startles for a minute before relaxing into it. Eliot gently bites Jonas's upper lip, sucking it into his mouth. Then Eliot pulls back just a little and his lips caress Jonas’s a couple more times before he kisses Jonas's forehead and straightens back up. “John says I should probably stop doing that,” Eliot says, but he doesn’t apologize.

“I don’t…” Jonas licks his lips. He wants to say that on Langara, kissing isn’t as common as it appears to be on Earth. He wants to tell Eliot that before they can kiss, Eliot is supposed to make his intentions known along with the familial expectations that Jonas would be expected to uphold. But Earth people are different, and Jonas has been here almost a year now and there is no more Langara for him to uphold traditions for.

“Look,” Eliot starts. “We want you here. We want you here for more than just Fridays and for more than just dinner. John gets hard every time you talk about math with him, and I’m hard whenever you smile that goddamned smile of yours. We like you, more than like you, and neither of us like the idea of you living alone in your barren apartment with your books and your Weather Channel. We really want this, Jonas, and we think you do, too.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, Eliot,” Jonas says softly. He turns his head to look out the window.

“There are things you don’t know about me either,” Eliot answers. “But I won’t push if you won’t.”

“And John?”

“John has secrets, too,” Eliot says quietly. “Everyone has secrets, Jonas, some worse than others. So as long as yours aren’t about killing bunnies and children, then I think we’re okay.”

Jonas is quiet for a moment before saying, “I’ve killed someone before.”

“So have I.”

“My job is dangerous.”

“So is mine.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

A warm hand wraps itself around Jonas's. “Neither do I.”

-0-

The Cheyenne Mountain Zoo not only has horses, elephants and giraffes, but they let you hand feed the giraffes, too. The zoo is amazing and Jonas isn’t sure there will be enough time to see everything. They have animals from all over the world, places Jonas has only read about. Eliot and John don’t seem to care that Jonas has them running from exhibit to exhibit, babbling everything he knows about each animal.

The elephants are huge and Jonas can’t believe that Earth has such large animals. And horses are a lot bigger than he had thought they would be. By the end of the day, Jonas has seen lions, bears, goats, hippopotamuses, monkeys, snakes, penguins, and a myriad of other animals. The zoo is his new favorite place and Jonas definitely wants to come back.

He stares at the giraffes, before sparing a glance behind him to where John and Eliot are sitting on a bench. They’re holding hands and talking, but John sees him turn and gives him a smile and a wave. Jonas returns the smile before looking back at the giraffes. They’re so amazing and so tall.

Eventually he feels John and Eliot settle on either side of him, Eliot’s hand resting at the small of Jonas's back. “Ready to go?”

Jonas sighs wistfully. “This place is amazing.”

“We can come back,” Eliot says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Eliot says.

Jonas looks at his watch. The zoo closes in twenty minutes and Jonas wants to stop by the gift shop on the way out. He bites his lip and glances back at the giraffes. They truly are extraordinary. He sighs, “Okay.” John slips an arm through Jonas's and Eliot follows behind them as they make their way to the gift shop by the exit.

Half an hour later they’re on their way back to Jonas's apartment. Jonas has a stuffed giraffe in a bag at his feet and he feels slightly embarrassed at how much he likes it; John and Eliot bought it for him. There had been nothing like stuffed animals on Langara, it’s an entirely a new concept to Jonas. At first he thought they actually stuffed animals, and John had to explain that yes, some people did do that, but in general it isn’t a real animal, just a toy.

Eliot pulls up to Jonas's building. Jonas grabs his jacket and his giraffe. “Thank you,” he says. “For taking me to the zoo. I had a really good time.”

“You’re welcome,” John smiles. “It's nice to see you on a Saturday.”

Jonas usually works Saturdays, but asked for today off to go to the zoo with John and Eliot. He's thinking of asking for them off all the time. He basically sets his own work schedule, and since Cam doesn’t work Saturdays, there are never any off-world missions scheduled for then. Jonas usually spends the time with Sam or Daniel, working on something more science oriented. He's positive that he would be able to take Saturdays off if he wants to.

“So I’ll see you Friday?” Jonas asks.

“You free Wednesday night?” Eliot returns.

“Yes.”

“Come over then.”

Jonas grins. “Sure.” He has his hand on the door handle when John says his name. “Yeah?”

“You free the fourteenth?” John asks.

“Of February?” He does some calculations. “It’s a Monday? I work on Mondays.”

“Monday night,” Eliot says.

“Oh. Nope, I’m free, I think. I’ll have to check for sure.”

“If you are free,” John says. “We’d like to reserve you for the night.”

“The whole night?”

“Yeah. Eliot can drive you to work in the morning,” John says.

“Okay,” Jonas agrees, not quite knowing what he's agreeing to.

“Great. We’ll see you Wednesday.”

Jonas hesitates for a split second before leaning forward and kissing Eliot’s cheek and then John’s. He flushes a deep red when he pulls back. “Thanks again.” He opens the car door and is across the parking lot before they can stop him.

When he's safely inside of his apartment he leans back against his closed door and takes a deep breath. He clutches his gift shop bag in his hand and wonders if everyone on Earth is this lost all the time, or if it's just him.

-0-

Wednesday night at John and Eliot’s feels different than Friday nights there. Jonas isn’t sure exactly what it is that’s different, just that it's there. Things _seem_ the same--Eliot is cooking and John is reading and Jonas is watching Eliot cook. But something is _off_.

He jumps a little when he feels arms slip around his waist from behind. John’s chin rests on his shoulder and Jonas wonders how he managed to miss the other man walking in from the living room. “How’s life?” John asks.

“Fascinating,” Jonas breathes. “Always something new to learn.”

“When’s the cast come off?”

“A few weeks,” Jonas says. “Did you see that other people signed it?” He holds his arm up and John slides a hand under it, taking its weight.

“Samantha Carter,” John murmurs. “Dr. Samantha Carter?”

“Yes,” Jonas answers.

“You know her?”

“I work with her,” Jonas says. “Sam’s great.”

“She has some of the leading theories in aerodynamics and astrophysics. I’ve e-mailed her a few times. I didn’t realize she was in Colorado Springs. Her work is amazing.”

“You geekin’ out again?” Eliot asks from nearby.

John stares at Jonas's cast for another moment before shaking his head. “Yes…no….sorry, lost in thought for a moment.” He goes back to staring at the white plaster. “Teal’c? What kind of name is that?”

“Family name,” Jonas supplies.

John laughs. “Okay…” He gently rotates Jonas's arm. “You have quite the number of signatures, and here I thought you were half a step up from recluse.”

“Mrs. Holland signed it, too,” Jonas beams. “My neighbor.”

“Very cool.” John lets Jonas's arm fall carefully from his hands before he settles them back onto Jonas's stomach. “Eliot’s making eggplant parmesan for dinner. Have you had that before?”

“No,” Jonas answers. “But I’ve wanted to try eggplant for a while now. It’s purple.”

“It most definitely is purple,” John agrees.

“You know I don’t mind if you guys eat meat,” Jonas says. “I can bring my own food.”

“It doesn’t bother us, Jonas,” John says. “Really.”

“You’re not bringing your own food,” Eliot interjects. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I just don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” John tells him. He kisses the side of Jonas's neck and Jonas shivers a little. “Eliot made cheesecake for dessert.”

“How do you have so much time to cook?” Jonas asks.

“I make my own hours,” Eliot says.

“At your… _Leverage_ firm?”

“Yeah.”

Jonas doesn’t know much about Eliot’s job except that he helps people and avoids the government and pictures. He tries not to put too much thought into what that combination could mean.

“Hey, so on Friday, Eliot and I were wondering if you wanted to go out with us instead of eating here. There’s a live band at one of the restaurants we like, and they play some pretty good music.”

“Live music,” Jonas breathes. “Yes, yes. I’m in.”

“You’ve never seen live music before?” Eliot asks.

“No,” Jonas says with a shake of his head. “I want to. I saw a movie where a guy played piano. It’s magical.”

“Eliot plays guitar,” John offers up. “If you ask nicely, I’m sure he'll play something for you tonight.”

Jonas's eyes widen. “Really? Eliot? Please?”

“Jesus, John, you know I can’t say no to him,” Eliot says with a glare. “John plays, too.”

“We’ll both play something for you tonight,” John says. “But Eliot is better, and he sings.”

Jonas grins excitedly. “This is so cool.”

It turns out that both of them play well and Eliot really does sing. Jonas is pretty sure he’s falling in love with Eliot’s voice, just a little. The music they make is so interesting to him. Jonas has never seen a guitar and while Langara has a form of string instrument it doesn’t sound at all like the music John and Eliot made--they sound amazing.

Eliot even lets Jonas hold his guitar and shows him a few chords; neither of them can believe that Jonas has never seen one before.

Eliot drives Jonas back in his truck, Jonas's bike in the bed. They don’t like it when Jonas rides home in the dark despite the fact that Jonas has blinking lights on his helmet and his bike, both courtesy of Eliot. Eliot pulls into the parking lot for Jonas's building and silence spreads through the cab.

Jonas bites his lip and turns to face the other man. “You have a great voice, Eliot. Thanks for singing for me.”

“Welcome,” Eliot says. “I’ll teach you some more chords next time you’re over.”

Jonas smiles. “That would be great!”

Eliot shakes his head. “You’re so easy to please, Jonas.”

“Is that bad?”

“Just different.”

“Everything here is just so…miraculous,” Jonas says. “So many wonderful things.”

“Lots of terrible things, too.”

“Yeah,” Jonas agrees softly.

Eliot reaches out and hooks a hand behind Jonas's neck, pulling him forward a bit. Their lips meet in a warm kiss before Eliot pulls back. “Spend the night on Friday.”

Jonas nods. “Okay.”

The other man swipes a thumb across Jonas's cheek. “Goodnight, Jonas.”

“Goodnight, Eliot.”

-0-

Live Earth music is almost as good as music on Langara, but it just sounds so different that it makes Jonas ache for music he's never going to hear again. There weren’t recordings on Langara, and Jonas has always been one more for the sciences than the arts, so he has no ability or means with which to recreate Langaran tunes with.

“Alright, Jonas?” John asks on their way to his car.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you like the band?”

“They were great,” Jonas answers.

“We like them,” John grins.

Jonas yawns. “There are so many different kinds of music.”

“That there are,” John agrees. He opens up the passenger door for Jonas and shuts it while Eliot climbs into the driver’s seat and John slides in the back.

Jonas is exhausted by the time they reach John and Eliot’s place. It's close to midnight and Jonas has been up since six. He drifts in and out of sleep on the ride back and John carefully prods him from the car to the front door. He lets John lead him back to the guest room where Jonas's bag sits.

He's content to just toe off his shoes and fall on top of the quilt, but then hands are there and his jeans are falling to the floor along with the t-shirt he has on, leaving him shivering in his boxers and undershirt. Warm hands tuck him into the bed.

“We’ll be right back,” John whispers. He plants a kiss on Jonas's forehead.

Jonas is almost asleep when he feels the bed dip. Then two bodies are wrapping themselves around him and Jonas is warm and content and asleep within seconds.

-0-

This time both John and Eliot are there when Jonas wakes up. It only takes a minute for his bladder to catch up with the rest of him and disturb the warm, peaceful feeling he has going on. Jonas scrambles off the bed and to the bathroom.

When he re-enters the guest room, John is lying on top of Eliot and Eliot has his hands down John’s boxers. They’re kissing and their bodies are rocking together. Jonas watches, entranced and unable to move from his spot in the doorway.

Then they pull apart and look at each other, having a silent conversation. It ends with Eliot’s hands sliding out of John’s boxers, and John rolling off of Eliot. In unison they both turn their heads to look at him. John offers him a reassuring smile and pats the bed, while Eliot shoots him a questioning look--what he's asking, Jonas isn’t sure.

Jonas pads across the room and climbs back up the bed in between them. John turns on his side to face him, his hand playing with the hem of Jonas's shirt. John’s eyes lock onto his and then Jonas feels it. John’s hand is sliding up under Jonas's shirt, fingers ghosting Jonas's stomach and then--

“ _Oh_ ,” Jonas breathes in surprise.

John smiles lazily as his fingers rub one of Jonas's nipples. “Good morning,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. As soon as he pulls back, Eliot leans in and claims Jonas's lips for his own.

Jonas licks his lips when they pulls back. “Good morning.”

“Jonas,” John began. “We were wondering…” he trails off nervously.

“If you want to watch us fuck,” Eliot finishes bluntly.

Jonas blinks. “… I… What?”

  
  


“We know you’re new to the whole gay thing,” John explains. “And we thought that maybe this would be something you’d be interested in.”

“But you would be _naked_ ,” Jonas says, and his voice definitely does not squeak on that last word.

Eliot laughs. “We can do it with clothes on, if that’s what you’re into.”

“It would…it would not be proper,” Jonas sputters.

Eliot shrugs. “The offer’s open, anytime.”

“I…” He gapes.

“You knew this is what we were offering,” John says gently. “We want it all with you, but we want you to be comfortable with it. We just thought this might help.”

“I can think about it?”

“Take all the time you need.”

-0-

Jonas loves Earth food. He loves Jell-o and Koolaid and mashed potatoes and green beans and eggplant and tortillas. Most of all, though, he really, really loves bananas. When the workers in the mess give him extra bananas to take home, Jonas thinks he’s ascended.

A couple of months ago, Sam had brought him some homemade banana bread and it had been amazing. She's passed on the recipe and Jonas memorized it. He started watching cooking shows and learning about the different tools he would need to cook with.

But nothing works.

So he calls John. Because John fixes things. He knows how to fix things, so John could surely fix whatever Jonas is doing wrong. Except John laughs and tells him to call Eliot.

Jonas fidgets for a second before calling. He almost never calls Eliot, especially during the day when the other man is at work. It's almost an unspoken rule, and Jonas is reluctant to break it.

Eliot picks up on the fourth ring. “Jonas?”

“Hi,” Jonas says quickly. “I know you’re busy, but John says to call you, and I was trying to bake and not sure what went wrong but my bread deflated and then it…melted? All over and I swear I followed the recipe, but it didn’t work and I was wondering--”

“Breathe,” Eliot says firmly. “I can come over later, Jonas, but right now--” He breaks off and Jonas hears what sounds suspiciously like a gunshot in the background. His heart clenches.

“Eliot? Are you in trouble? Where are you? I can--”

“Stay there, Jonas,” Eliot growls. “I’ll come over tonight.” With that he hangs up and Jonas is met with silence.

“Eliot?” He asks, knowing it's useless. He sets the phone down on the table and walks quickly into his bedroom. There’s a small safe there, with two guns, and some extra ammo. Jonas grabs one, making sure it's loaded. He pulls a thigh holster on over his jeans and slides the gun into it. It's a long shot, but if Eliot calls, asking for help, Jonas would be ready.

-0-

Jonas is sitting on the couch, anxiously waiting for Eliot. The Weather Channel is on TV in the background, but he has it muted. It's raining outside and the drops are an almost soothing sound filling the silence.

He jumps at the knock at the door and hurries across the room. He looks through the small hole in the door as John and Eliot have made him promise to do. Jonas unlocks the door and opens it to a wet Eliot. He ushers Eliot into his apartment and goes to find a towel for the other man.

He pulls one out of the hallway closet and turns around to find Eliot right behind him. In one smooth motion Eliot reaches for the gun strapped to Jonas's thigh and pulls the clip out before Jonas even blinks.

“What the hell are you doing with this, Jonas?” he growls.

“I…if you needed help,” Jonas answers.

“Guns don’t help.”

“Cam says--”

“I don’t care what _Cam_ says,” Eliot returns darkly. “If you want to help someone, I can teach you how to do it without a gun.”

Jonas stares at him, unsure of what he's offering. “Okay.”

“Good.” He hands the gun and the clip back to Jonas and waits while Jonas puts it back into his gun safe. When Jonas turns around, Eliot is drying his hair with the towel, a small sliver of skin peeking out from under his shirt, showing off just a small glimpse of his stomach. “So what happened to your banana bread?”

“It melted,” Jonas says, dragging his eyes up from Eliot‘s body. “I followed the directions.”

“You have more ingredients?” Eliot asks.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s see what we can make.”

Jonas grins. “Thank you, Eliot.”

Eliot nods and leads them back to the kitchen.

-0-

When Eliot said he could teach Jonas how to help people without a gun, Jonas didn’t think much of it. But now he spends his Sundays with John and Eliot, learning self-defense, and a few other moves to try and help protect others while he’s at it.

For so long, Jonas has felt like the add-on to the gate teams, only useful for whatever scientific knowledge he could procure to get them out of terrible situations. Now, though, he's starting to think that maybe he can help the team out in a different way, and he has Eliot to thank for it.

Eliot.

John.

Jonas sighs and sits down on the couch, turning the Weather Channel on. He mutes the television and stretches out on the cushions.

Does he want what they’re offering?

 _Yes._

Is he scared?

 _Yes._

Does he have any idea what he's getting into?

 _No._

Is he going to do it anyway?

 _Yes._

-0-

Jonas doesn’t understand Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t understand most Earth holidays, but this one baffles him, along with Talk Like a Pirate Day. Sam said it’s a day of romance, when the men buy chocolate and flowers for the women, and when the women…well, Sam didn’t actually finish telling him what the women give the men, but Jonas thinks it’s probably bananas and blue Jell-o. That’s what he would want, at least.

Jonas is a man, but so are John and Eliot. He wonders if he's still supposed to buy them flowers and chocolate. He settles for a bunch of bananas each and a bar of chocolate.

He has an overnight bag at his feet, and bananas in his hand when he knocks with his elbow. John answers the door with a smile. He leans in and kisses Jonas before Jonas can even blink. “Nice bananas,” John says. He bends down and grabs Jonas's bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

Jonas's cast comes off in a week and he’s ready to see it go. “Doesn’t hurt,” Jonas answers honestly. He steps inside and kicks the door closed behind him. John disappears down the hallway with his bag, so Jonas follows his nose into the kitchen where Eliot is.

Eliot turns away from the oven to glance at him. “Nice bananas,” he says, echoing John’s earlier words.

“They’re for you,” Jonas says. “And John.” He sets them down on the counter and pulls the two chocolate bars out of his pocket. “These, too.”

Eliot smiles and it reaches his eyes. Jonas wants to reach out and touch it. “Thanks, Jonas.”

“I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to get you flowers, because Sam says that men buy flowers and chocolate for the women, but you and John aren’t women--”

“Damn straight,” Eliot interrupts.

“--so I thought I’d just get you some chocolate. Sam never really said what the women give the men, but I figured she was going to say bananas, so I bought bananas.”

There’s a soft laugh and Jonas turns to see John leaning in the doorway watching him with a grin on his face. “You thought Sam was going to tell you that the women give the men bananas?”

Jonas flushes. “I… They’re really good.”

John shakes his head softly. “Never change, Jonas.”

“Okay,” Jonas agrees. Eliot’s still smiling, and it occurs to Jonas that if he wants to, he _can_ reach out and touch it. So he does. His fingers graze Eliot’s lips and Eliot blinks in surprise, but doesn’t move, and he doesn’t stop smiling. He acts as though it’s normal for Jonas to feel up his face. Jonas wonders if John does this to Eliot. He lowers his hand and flushes at his straightforwardness. Eliot leans in and Jonas feels that smile touch his own in a gentle kiss.

A beep comes from the stove behind them and Eliot breaks the kiss. “Go set the table with, J. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Jonas nods. “Okay.”

-0-

It’s late when John and Eliot lead Jonas down the hall to their bedroom. They pass the guestroom and Jonas only feels more nervous the further away they get from it.

He’s never seen their room, but when John opens the door, Jonas immediately gets a sense of _JohnandEliot_. The bed is large, and Jonas’s overnight bag is sitting on the ground near it.

“You don’t have to,” John says.

“But we want you to,” Eliot finishes.

“What would…” Jonas swallows. “What would happen?”

“I’ll blow you,” Eliot says, slipping a hand under Jonas’s shirt.

“What-what about John?”

Eliot and John share a look that Jonas can’t interpret. Eventually Eliot says, “John’s going to watch for now.”

“What would I…?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Eliot tells him. “Neither of us will say _no_ , if you do want to do something, but we’re not expecting it.”

“Is John okay with this?”

“Yes,” John answers for himself.

Jonas reaches out and cups John’s cheek. “You look sad, John.”

“I’m not,” John promises. “I want this, we both do.”

Jonas whispers, “I’ve never done this before. I might be really bad at it.”

Another look passes between John and Eliot and someday Jonas wants to be able to talk like they do, without words. “No such thing,” Eliot says.

“Okay,” Jonas nods, biting his lip.

Eliot stares at him. “You sure?”

  
  


“Yeah.”

They move to the bed together and John tugs at Jonas’s shirt while Eliot unbuttons his pants. Within a minute he’s naked. Eliot and John look him over slowly and Jonas shivers, resisting the urge to cover up. Then they both pull of their own shirts and John strips down to his boxers, while Eliot sheds the rest of his clothes.

John gives him a long kiss, his tongue teasing its way into Jonas’s mouth. They’re both panting when they finish, and Eliot leans over and claims John’s mouth for his own while Jonas watches. After they break apart, Eliot whispers something in John’s ear and John nods.

Then they both turn back to him and Jonas lets himself be positioned onto the bed. Eliot straddles him and kisses him again. Jonas is vaguely aware of John moving somewhere, but he’s lost in the feelings Eliot is giving him.

When their cocks touch, Jonas jumps a little and Eliot holds him steady. “Relax,” Eliot growls. Jonas nods and lets Eliot kiss his way down Jonas’s body. Jonas freezes up when Eliot touches him, but the touch is gentle, stroking him lightly.

“When you said you’ve never done this before,” Eliot begins. “What exactly did you mean?”

“Where I’m from,” Jonas says, trembling. “We are not permitted to engage in sexual relations before marriage.”

“Are you Amish?” he hears John blurt out.

“What’s Amish?”

“Guess not,” Eliot says. He kisses Jonas’s hip, and his breath is hot against his skin.

Then Eliot’s tongue is on him, licking up his length. He sucks the tip of Jonas’s cock into his mouth and Jonas nearly bolts off of the bed. He fists the sheets in his hand as Eliot sucks him in further. It feels so amazing. He’s just surrounded by heat and wetness, and it’s _Eliot_.

Eliot’s head moves up and down him, his tongue swirling everywhere. It’s overwhelming and Jonas knows he won’t last much longer. Jonas tugs at Eliot’s hair lightly to try and lift him off. “Eliot.”

“Don’t,” John says.

So Jonas stops and he’s too far gone to feel embarrassed when he comes down Eliot’s throat. Eliot licks him a few more times before pulling his mouth off of Jonas. John’s there, then, without his boxers, and Jonas watches as he kisses Eliot, sees John’s tongue slip out and into Eliot’s mouth. “You okay?” he hears Eliot ask John quietly.

“Yeah.”

“John.”

“I’m fine.”

John settles down on Jonas’s left, while Eliot takes his right. Jonas can feel how hard they both are and wonders what’s next. John’s fingers tweak one of Jonas’s nipples while Eliot’s hand massages Jonas’s balls. “Good?” John asks.

Jonas nods. “Wow.”

“Feel up to watchin’ us?” Eliot asks him.

“What are you going to do?” he asks curiously.

Eliot kisses Jonas’s shoulders. “I’m gonna make love to my man.”

Jonas hesitates. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

“John?” Jonas asks.

“Same.”

Jonas nods slowly and John and Eliot both press a kiss to his cheek at the same time. Then Eliot’s moving and Jonas watches as he situates himself on top of John. John’s never seemed more fragile than he does right now. Eliot’s kissing John’s jaw, tiny little kisses. Their cocks rub together and John makes a soft noise that makes Jonas’s chest ache for some reason.

Eliot must hear it, too, cause he covers John’s body with his own even more, and cradles John to him. Eliot grabs a small bottle off of the nightstand and squirts some onto his fingers. Then his hand goes between him and John and John makes another noise, this one less broken and more needy.

“Eliot,” John breathes. “Just…please.”

“I’ve got you, J,” Eliot tells him gently.

John’s legs wrap around Eliot’s body and Jonas watches as Eliot slides into John. It’s a lot less brutal than anything he stumbled across online, it’s tender and caring. They rock together, and Eliot leans forward so John can bury his face in Eliot’s neck, hiding.

It’s a little disconcerting to see John so…raw. Jonas might be new to sex, but even he can tell that there’s something else happening between Eliot and John, some reason that Eliot seems to be comforting John.

“’liot,” he hears John pant. “Please.”

“Not tonight,” Eliot answers. “Trust me.”

“I need…”

“I know what you need,” Eliot tells him. “I’ve got you, John, I’ve got you.”

It’s hard to tell what happens after that. Eliot’s still moving, but John starts shaking and then Eliot. He hears words of love pass between them and he watches as Eliot waits for John to pull away before he moves. Eliot rolls off of John and lands in between John and Jonas. John stands up shakily and heads for the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Jonas asks quietly.

“Just goin’ to clean up,” Eliot answers.

A couple minutes later, John comes back with a wet washcloth and he wipes Eliot down before tossing the cloth into the hamper. He climbs back in next to Eliot and curls up on his side. Eliot presses a kiss to John’s forehead. “Night, darlin’.”

“Night, Eliot. Night, Jonas.”

“Goodnight, John,” Jonas says quietly. John’s breathing evens out as he drifts off to sleep. “What happened to him?”

Eliot reaches over and pulls Jonas to him. “We all have secrets,” Eliot answers. “Some are worse than others.”

“Am I messing things up?” Jonas asks. “Tell me the truth.”

Eliot exhales. “You’re not messin’ anything up, Jonas. This is new for us, too. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“But John--”

“Has his own demons to fight,” Eliot finishes. “He wants this, Jonas. Just give him some time.”

“Eliot?” Jonas whispers. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Eliot nods and runs a hand through Jonas’s hair. “You can tell me anything.”

“I miss home.”

“Where’s that?”

“Some place far away,” Jonas says sadly.

“If you want to visit, John and I both have money--”

“It’s not about that,” Jonas tells him. “It’s… There’s nothing left. My people were wiped out. I miss it a lot, but there’s nowhere to go back to. Sometimes I wish I had perished with the others.”

Eliot tightens his hold on Jonas. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Don’t you think they would want you to live? Keep their memory alive? You can find a new home, Jonas. You can make one here, with me and John.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It never will be,” Eliot agrees. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

“I’m tired of it being so hard.”

“We all start over, Jonas, every day. Sometimes it gets easier. Mostly I count myself lucky that John chooses to start over with me.”

“Are you… Is this for life?” Jonas asks. “You and John?”

“It is for me.”

“Why did you approach me, Eliot?”

“Because John wanted to,” Eliot admits. “And there’s very few things I would refuse him. That doesn’t mean I don’t want this, Jonas. I do. And you’re already fitting into spaces that I don’t think either of us were very aware of. John probably knew more about them than I did, but he also never would have done anything about it.”

“Oh.” An inexplicable warmth fills him. Jonas hasn’t fit in anywhere in a long time, and the thought that he might fit in here, with John and Eliot, makes him smile.

“You gonna sleep now?”

“Will you make pancakes in the morning?”

“John will,” Eliot tells him.

“I thought John isn’t allowed to cook.”

“Only pancakes,” Eliot murmurs. “He’ll make you some banana ones.”

“I love bananas.”

“We know.”

-0-

Banana pancakes are now on the list of reasons Earth is pretty cool. They’re really, really good and Jonas eats as many as he can before he starts to feel sick.

“I’ll make them for you again,” John promises.

Jonas grins. “They were really delicious, John.”

John laughs. “Thank you.” He turns to Eliot. “Did you get the _thing_?”

Eliot downs some coffee before standing up. “It’s in the bedroom.” He disappears from the dining room and comes back a moment later with a small red gift bag. He holds it out to Jonas. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jonas.”

Jonas widens his eyes in surprise and accepts the bag. He’s expecting chocolate, but instead he pulls out-- “Cheyenne Mountain Zoo,” he reads. “Tickets to the zoo?” he asks excitedly.

“A season pass,” John tells him. “And with that one, you can take in two guests whenever you go, if you ever want Eliot or I to go with you.”

“Thank you!” Jonas beams. “This is really wonderful.”

“Now you can go and stare at the giraffes all day long,” Eliot teases.

“I will,” Jonas nods. “I love giraffes.”

-0- **END Part Two &JONAS **-0-


	4. Interlude Two

-0- **INTERLUDE TWO** -0-

SG-7 misses two check-ins before Jonas is suited up. They gate out to P4X-384 and Jonas is throwing up before the event horizon closes behind him. Sam’s bent over next to him, looking decidedly sick, but does a better job of keeping her lunch down. P4X is a wasteland of blood and bodies.

They find what’s left of SG-7 a click north of the gate. Jonas feels sorrow wash over him along with an overwhelming sadness and anger at the Nolvern. He knew all of SG-7, and while he didn’t know the people of P4X, he knows they didn’t deserve this.

It’s not even noon when they gate back. Jonas doesn’t even ask permission before he re-dresses in his street clothes and grabs his bicycle from the locker room. Sam meets him at the elevator and they ride to the top together. She pulls him into a hug and kisses his cheek telling him to take as much time as he needs. Jonas nods sadly and starts peddling.

He ends up downtown. In front of him are the _Leverage_ offices. Jonas has never been in them, but Eliot pointed them out once, and Jonas has always had a good memory.

He dismounts his bike and walks it into the lobby. There’s no secretary, but there’s a door with a keypad and a security camera. Jonas sits down in the one chair available and waits.

If he were counting, it’d be three minutes before the elevator chimes and Eliot steps out. Eliot crouches down in front of him and rests his hands on Jonas’s knees. “We have a couch in the lounge,” Eliot says. “If you want to come up for a while.”

“Will they mind?” Jonas asks softly.

Eliot reaches up and brushes some hair out of Jonas’s face. “Nope.”

“I’m really terrible company right now.”

“They’ll leave you alone.”

“It’s just that the bar is closed,” Jonas continues. “And I have to wait for it to open.”

Eliot leans up and Jonas leans down and their lips meet, and it’s so comforting. All Jonas wants right now is Eliot and John wrapped around him. He makes a strangled sound when Eliot pulls away, desperately trying to cling to him. Eliot swipes a finger across Jonas’s cheek and it comes away wet.

“Come on up to the lounge,” Eliot says gently. “I have to be here for a little while longer, and then I’ll take you home, okay?”

Jonas nods and stands up shakily. Eliot grabs his bike and rolls it into the elevator with them. He presses an unmarked button and the lift begins to move. Jonas reaches out and grabs the bottom of Eliot’s shirt in his hand, holding on tightly. When they step out, it’s into a small hallway. Eliot pushes open a door easily, and parks Jonas’s bike near the wall. Jonas follows him through the office to a smaller room. There’s a couch, as promised, as well as a couple of chairs. It’s dimly lit and seems to fit Jonas’s mood.

Eliot leads him to the couch and gently pushes him until he’s lying down. A blanket appears and covers him. Eliot leans down and presses a kiss to Jonas’s forehead. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the big conference room at the end of the hall.”

Jonas nods and hopes for sleep, not sure if he’ll get any. Eliot kisses him again and then Jonas is alone, but he isn’t cold. He has the blanket Eliot covered him with.

-0-

When Eliot steps back into the conference room, everyone turns to look at him. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“Going to introduce us to your friend?” Nate asks.

“That’s Jonas,” Parker chirps.

“And he’s having a bad day,” Eliot finishes. “I told him you guys would leave him alone. I’ll take him home when we’re finished here.”

They keep staring and Eliot growls, “What?”

It’s Sophie who answers. “Does John know about him?” she asks carefully.

“Does John know--” Eliot glares. “It’s none of your damn business.”

“Look, man,” Hardison says. “We like John, and I like Jonas, but we’re just tryin’ to watch out for your man.’

“It’s none of your damn business, Hardison,” Eliot repeats roughly. He sits down. “Can we get on with this?”

“Eliot,” Parker says quietly.

He closes his eyes and then looks at them. “John and I are… We’re opening up our relationship to Jonas.”

He’s met with blinks and stares and it’s Hardison who blurts out, “What, like a threesome?”

Eliot sighs. “Yes.”

“Eliot!” Sophie says. “Are you really?”

“Yes. We’ve been seeing him for months,” Eliot says. “Now can we get off of my private life and back on the case?”

Nate clears his throat and thankfully starts talking again. It’s two hours later when they’re finished. Originally the plan had called for Eliot to do some minor surveillance later that night, but Hardison had said he and Parker could do it, and Eliot is silently grateful for them.

He grabs his jacket and his car keys from his office and heads back to the lounge. Jonas is on his side and when Eliot crouches down in front of him, he can see Jonas’s eyes are open, and there’s a set of shiny tear tracks on his face.

Jonas blinks slowly and then focuses his gaze on Eliot’s face. “Eliot,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. You ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jonas rasps. “Can we stop at the grocery store? I was supposed to go tonight.”

“We’ve got plenty of food,” Eliot says. He helps Jonas sit up and gives him a minute to wipe his face and gather himself.

Jonas shakes his head. “I don’t have any food. I can order pizza,” he says absently.

“John went shopping two days ago. We have food,” Eliot says again. He helps Jonas stand up.

“Your food is at your house,” Jonas frowns. “I need food at my apartment.”

Eliot sighs heavily. “You’re coming home with me. John can stop at your place after work tonight and get some clothes for you.”

Jonas looks at him blankly. “What?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eliot dismisses. “Let’s go get your bike.”

He texts John on the way home, letting him know that he has Jonas and to pick up some things for him on the way. John calls him back.

“Hey,” Eliot says quietly. He glances at Jonas in the passenger seat. He’s leaning his head against the window, and for all the world looks as though he’s not even there.

“What’s wrong?” John asks immediately.

“Not sure,” Eliot admits. “He showed up at the office. He…he was cryin’, John.”

“I’ll skip my last class,” John says. Eliot breathes a small sigh of relief. He’s not as good at the comforting thing as John is, and Jonas shouldn’t be stuck with his awkward attempts at it, not when they have John.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be home in about an hour, maybe less.”

“I’ll see you then,” Eliot says.

“I love you.”

“You, too,” Eliot murmurs.

-0-

John finds Jonas and Eliot in the master bedroom. Eliot’s wrapped around Jonas and they’re both awake, as far as John can tell. He toes off his shoes and slips out of his jeans and climbs in next to Jonas.

“Hey,” John says quietly. Jonas smiles at him, but it’s a sad smile, a forced one. John loves Jonas’s smile. “How ya doin’?”

“They’re gone,” Jonas whispers.

“Who’s gone?”

“Mark, Sally, Jimmy, and Scott,” Jonas answers. “Dead.”

John looks over Jonas’s head and meets Eliot’s eyes. Eliot just frowns and shakes his head; he has no idea who they are either. “I’m sorry, Jonas.”

“They were so nice,” Jonas says. “Sally loved the Flinstones and…her cat. She has a cat. What’s going to happen to her cat?” Tears streak down his face. “And Mark, he’s been dating this girl, who’s going to tell her? And Jimmy…he never got to see the Grand Canyon. Scott…he’ll never find out what happens in his comic books. He was really looking forward to the next one.”

John looks at Eliot again, and this time Eliot mouths something to him. _Military_. John has no idea why people would be dying in Colorado Springs. He has no idea what they could be doing at Cheyenne Mountain that results in the death of four people. “Jonas…”

“And all those other people,” Jonas continues. “They didn’t deserve it.”

“What other people?” John asks, rubbing Jonas’s stomach.

“Is it six o’clock yet?” Jonas asks instead.

“It’s almost two.”

“Oh.”

Eliot meets his eyes again and mouths _pub_. Ah. “Do you want to sleep for a while, babe?” John asks him.

“I see them when I close my eyes.”

“We can just lay here,” John tells him. “Whatever will help.”

Jonas starts to sit up. “I need to go to the pet store. Where’s my bike?”

Eliot rests a gentle hand on Jonas’s arm. “What’s at the pet store?”

“Pet stuff. I need… I want to take care of Sally’s cat,” Jonas says. “It needs food and…and… I don’t know what cats need. I need to read a book on cats. And I need to go get Sally’s key so I can get her cat, because Sally wouldn’t mind if I looked after her. So I should get my bike…and my backpack.”

“I’ll send Parker and Hardison to get it,” Eliot says. “Don’t worry about the cat, Jonas.”

“How will they get in?”

“Parker’s good at things like that,” John tells him. “We’ll take care of it, okay?”

“What if she tries to eat the cat?”

John blinks. “Why would she eat the cat?”

“She’s really weird,” Jonas whispers.

Eliot laughs quietly. “I love that you think she’s weird, Jonas. J, can you hand me my phone?”

John passes Eliot’s phone from the bedside table to him. Eliot sends off a quick text and a moment later there’s a text back. Eliot nods to John and John thinks that they’ve just acquired a cat. Well, Jonas has, and they’re hoping to acquire a Jonas. “Parker’s already on her way to get it,” John tells him. He gently pushes on Jonas’s chest, getting him to lay back again.

“Thank you,” Jonas breathes.

John presses his lips to Jonas’s forehead. “You’re welcome.”

-0-

Jonas falls asleep a few hours after Parker arrives with the cat. Hardison shows up after her with cat supplies, and John finds a place to set them all up. Eliot finds John standing in the doorway to their bedroom, watching Jonas sleep. He wraps his arms around John’s waist and kisses the back of his neck. “How’s he doin’?”

“Seems okay,” John answers. “Do you know anything about what goes on in Cheyenne Mountain?”

“No,” Eliot says regretfully. “I can see if Hardison can poke around in there.”

John seems to think it over. “I’m still hoping he’ll tell us.”

“He’s probably buried in confidentiality agreements, John.”

“I know.” John exhales. “There’s something about him… He works with Dr. Samantha Carter. She specializes in astrophysics,” John murmurs. “She’s known in certain circles as the wormhole theorist. She… Eliot, she wrote a paper many years ago postulating the existence of other worlds with possible life on them. This might sound crazy, but…”

Eliot swallows. “You think Jonas is from another planet.”

“I think,” John says slowly. “That he has a lot of social gaps. I think he reads a lot, maybe too much. I think that he’s never told us where he’s from.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A few months,” John tells him. “You said something offhand about him being an alien, and he froze. Once my mind could get past the possibility of life on other planets, it started piecing things together.”

“But, still… J… An alien?”

“I think he won’t lie if we ask him flat out if he is one,” John says quietly.

“What if he is?”

John turns in his arms and rests his forehead on Eliot’s. “Would you want him any less?”

Eliot doesn’t even need a minute to think about it. “No.”

“Me neither. I want to keep him.”

“Me, too, darlin’,” Eliot says. “Me, too.”

-0-

The first time Jonas goes to a Tau’ri funeral, it rains. He’s wearing a suit of John’s, because he doesn’t have his own. The service is sad and Jonas never wants to go to another one. It’s been almost a week since they gated to P4X-384. Jonas has been working half days for the past couple of days. He doesn’t want to go off-world anymore, and no one says anything when he stops showing up to the off-world briefings.

Sam brings him work, though, and it keeps him busy. She has energy calculations, and ideas on how to improve security on the _Daedalus_ , and a hundred other little projects that Jonas dives into.

He’s been staying at John and Eliot’s since the day he showed up at _Leverage_. Tonight he’s going to ask Eliot to drive him and Molly back to Jonas’s apartment. Molly should get used to Jonas’s place before adjusting too much to John and Eliot’s.

He leaves work early, and bikes the distance to John and Eliot’s house. It’s still cold, freezing even, as it’s the end of February, but Jonas thinks he’s finally adjusting. Either that or he’s just always frozen and there’s nothing colder than that. John and Eliot don’t approve of him biking everywhere in this weather, but Jonas doesn’t want to learn how to drive.

No one’s there when he arrives, and he thinks about just biking to his place and back, but doesn’t think Molly will appreciate the cold. He decides on a nap and tucks himself into the guest bed, with Molly curled up next to him. He pets her carefully and tries not to think of Sally.

-0-

When Eliot gets home, John is reading. Eliot drops a kiss on John’s forehead, sticks his head into the guest room, and then disappears into their bedroom. John sets aside his book and makes for the freezer; he pulls out two ice packs. He has three Advil and a bottle of water waiting for Eliot when he comes into the kitchen. Eliot swallows them down without fanfare and guzzles half the bottle down before setting it aside.

“How long has he been asleep?”

“Since I got home,” John answers. “So a couple hours at least.”

“His bags are packed,” Eliot remarks, pressing the cold pack to his side.

“Yeah, I think he wants us to take him back to his apartment.” John reaches out and carefully tilts Eliot’s head side to side, looking for any evidence of injury.

“We should talk to him,” Eliot murmurs. “I’m fine, J.”

“About what? Moving in?” John asks with a frown, lifting Eliot’s shirt up. “Jesus, Eliot.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Eliot repeats, holding the ice pack to his side, pushing his shirt back down. “And, yes, about moving in.”

“You want him to?”

“You don’t?”

“I think it’s asking a lot of him.”

Eliot stares at him. “We’re asking for his heart, John. I think asking him if he wants to move in is nothing compared to that.”

John sighs and worms a finger through one of the belt loops on the front of Eliot’s jeans. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Eliot pulls John to his side with his free hand. “Neither do I, but we’ll work it out.”

“Are we making a mistake?”

“Does it feel like we are?” Eliot counters.

John exhales. “This is all just so…weird, different really.”

Eliot presses a kiss to John’s neck. “Come on,” he says, tugging John along. They both stop by the guest room to check in on Jonas, who’s still sleeping, before ending up in their bedroom.

John climbs in next to Eliot and they tangle up in a familiar, comforting way. Eliot balances the ice pack on his side and John is careful not to nudge it.

“Let’s talk about this,” Eliot says.

They’ve talked about this, of course they’ve talked about it--they’ve been wooing Jonas for months, but that was before it seemed like Jonas would say yes. Now it’s…it’s this inevitability that John thinks crept up on him, just a little bit.

“List them,” Eliot says plainly.

“What if you love him more than me,” John blurts out. He’s embarrassed at how juvenile it sounds, but it’s been on his mind for days now--weeks. He swallows, “Or you stop loving me and I--”

“John,” he says gently. He touches the spot over John’s heart, through his shirt. “I love you. It’s forever, darlin’.”

“You say that now, but--”

“No buts,” Eliot cuts him off. “You don’t stop loving someone, John. If you do, it wasn’t love. You _know_ that.”

“Yeah,” John breathes. “Yes, sorry. I’m nervous.”

“That Jonas will stay or that he won’t?”

“Both.”

“I think all three of us need to sit down and talk,” Eliot says softly. “There’s a lot we don’t know about him still, and a lot he doesn’t know about us.”

Eliot rolls on top of John, letting the ice pack fall to the side. He covers John’s body with his own. “I love you, John Sheppard,” he whispers into John’s ear. “Nothing will ever change that. And you’re not going to only get half of everything, you’re not sharing it with Jonas. Everything I feel for you now, will still be yours, J. Jonas will get his own love. ‘K?”

John nods and buries his face into Eliot’s neck. “Okay.”

-0-

When Jonas wakes up, Molly is gone, but John and Eliot are there. There’s no light shining through the window or spilling in under the door from the hallway. John and Eliot are both breathing softly, so Jonas is pretty sure they’re both asleep.

He feels warm and comfortable and snuggles back down underneath Eliot’s arm. Jonas drifts off to sleep thinking about home and how Eliot is right--he can make a new one here.

-0-

John’s never had feelings about the zoo one way or the other. It’s the zoo. There are animals there and kids and lots of terrible smells. Jonas loves the zoo, though. John’s never seen someone so amazed at so many things all at once. Eliot laughs as Jonas pulls them around to the different exhibits, and John laughs with him. The innocent exuberance is refreshing and John wonders what the world looks like through Jonas’s eyes.

Jonas’s favorite animals are the giraffes. John isn’t sure what it is about the creatures that pulls Jonas to them, but he loves them. It’s only been two months since Valentine’s Day, but already they’ve been here four times. Jonas has it all planned out, down to how much time they spend at each habitat, the longest amount is always given to the giraffes.

They usually sit on a bench and watch Jonas feed the giraffes and try to get them to let him pet them. Sometimes it works. Today, though, Eliot leaves John there while he searches out a bathroom. So John joins Jonas at the side of the barrier. He slides an arm across Jonas’s shoulders. “So, Jonas, tell me--why giraffes?”

Jonas’s smile is written all over, and he’s happy and more alive than he’s been in a while. “They’re tall,” he says simply. “And their necks… They’re so majestic.”

John looks over at the giraffes and then back at Jonas. They’re tall, he’ll give them that, but John doesn’t see anything majestic about them. It’s okay, Jonas does. “Cool.”

Jonas grins. “Cool beans.”

John laughs at that. It’s a phrase Jonas heard somewhere and has been repeating since. They go back to watching the giraffes, and while John might not think they’re majestic, he _does_ think they’re pretty damn cool.

He licks his lips and asks, “Jonas?”

It takes a moment for Jonas to tear his eyes off of the animals to look at John. “Yeah?”

“How would you like to go camping with Eliot and me next weekend?”

“I love camping,” Jonas tells him excitedly.

John nods. “Awesome.”

-0-

Jonas babbles excitedly while Eliot drives a few hours out of the city and to the small camping area that he’d brought John to before. Eliot’s a little surprised when Jonas expertly sets up a tent without any direction. Knowing how to pitch a tent seems like an odd thing to know, especially if you’re Jonas.

He helps Eliot build a fire, too, which is fine, because John is definitely out of his element again, but Eliot loves that he keeps trying. They go camping a few times a year, and John never complains because he knows how much Eliot loves it. In return, Eliot lets John drag him to a weeklong math conference every year. He thinks that with Jonas neither of them will have to trade anything because Jonas loves camping and he loves math. Maybe the zoo visits are his required payments.

There’s an inflatable mattress that John sets up in the bed of the truck for stargazing, and as soon as it gets dark enough, they all head there. Jonas is in the middle, with John on the left and Eliot on the right. There’s a thin blanket spread over both of them and Eliot’s suddenly worried about John, if he’s warm enough.

He reaches a hand across Jonas and John gives it a quick squeeze before letting go. They stare at the stars for a while and Jonas talks quietly about constellations and mass coronas and other things that Eliot doesn’t really understand, but that John chimes in every few minutes about.

It’s late when they fall into an amiable silence. John breaks it.

“Lots of planets out there, Jonas,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” Jonas says almost wistfully.

There’s a short hesitation before John asks, “Which one’s yours?”

Jonas freezes between them. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s breathing heavily and Eliot feels his own heart race. John’s had this theory for months, and Eliot’s humored it, but this…this might be borrowing trouble.

The question hangs in the air and stretches between them. It’s heavy and thick and Jonas makes a soft choking noise before pulling his arm free from the blanket and pointing up. He points to a white dot to the left of the Big Dipper. “That one,” he whispers. “That one is Langara.”

“Holy shit,” Eliot breathes. No way did Jonas just confirm he’s from another planet.

“A people called the Ori released a plague onto many worlds,” Jonas says quietly. “It killed thousands. I am one of a few hundred of my people to survive the Ori attack. We’re scattered now, across the galaxy.”

“How did you end up on Earth?” John asks. Eliot’s still stuck on _from another planet_.

“I knew the Tau’ri from a few years ago, I was here before, and then went back to Langara after some time. When the Tau’ri had learned of the devastation on Langara, they sought me out, and I chose to come back with them.”

“Tau’ri,” John repeats. “That’s us? Earth people?”

“Yes,” Jonas confirms.

“Tau’ri,” he says again. “I like it.”

“Holy shit,” Eliot says again.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” Jonas says quietly. “It’s not my place to inform those of Earth of the existence of others.”

“ _Holy shit_.”

John reaches over and pats Eliot’s stomach lightly. “You okay over there?”

“Jonas is a mother fucking _alien_.”

“Actually, I don’t fuck mothers.”

Eliot blinks and turns to stare at Jonas. “ _Now_ is when you choose to get a sense of humor?”

John laughs loudly and the air mattress shakes. “I like Funny Jonas. I say we keep him.”

Jonas grins and Eliot goes back to staring at the little white dot that used to be Jonas’s home. Eliot mumbles, “ _Of all the gin joints_ …”

“Are you glad I walked into yours?” Jonas asks softly.

It’s a reference that Eliot didn’t expect him to get, except Jonas has never quite been able to be so easily predicted. “Yeah,” Eliot says roughly. “I am.”

-0- **END INTERLUDE TWO** -0-


	5. Part Three: The Ever Really Ever Job [JOHN&ELIOT&JONAS]

-0- **BEGIN Part Three: The Ever Really Ever Job [JOHN &ELIOT&JONAS] -0-**

  
  


Things change after they find out that Jonas really _is_ an alien. Mostly Jonas asks more questions, often times things Eliot doesn’t know, and sometimes things John doesn’t know, so they all find themselves learning more about whatever piques Jonas’s interest.

More than that, John and Eliot share more of themselves with Jonas. One night, in the pitch black of night, John tells Jonas a little bit about Michael Riley, the next day Eliot takes Jonas to lunch and tells him the rest, because John can’t and with Eliot he doesn’t need to, but they both agreed that Jonas needs to know.

Eliot takes Jonas out the next week to explain his job and his past. There’s understanding in Jonas’s eyes, a look that tells Eliot that he’s been where Eliot is. It’s something he could never get from John, because John hasn’t been there. But Jonas has. It’s freeing, and the small part of Eliot that hadn’t realized it was alone, now feels as though it has a companion, a brother in arms.

The most worrisome development, though, is the fact that Parker is enamored with Jonas. And Jonas is equally enamored with her. While it does get Eliot out of going to the zoo every weekend, it means Parker’s around a lot.

Five weeks after the camping trip, Eliot comes home to a pile of boxes in the front room. Eliot sets down the food in his hands, and finds John and Hardison surrounded by cables and speakers and-- “A television?”

“It’s for Jonas,” John says absently, pouring through the instruction manual. “So he can watch the Weather Channel.”

“Don’t put it out here,” Eliot growls. “Go put it in his room.”

John looks up at that. “The guest room? What if we have a guest?”

“First of all, I meant the other room that’s just taking up space. Second of all, when have we ever had a guest who isn’t Jonas?”

“Alec’s stayed here a couple of times,” John says, gesturing to Hardison.

Eliot rolls his eyes. “Move this stuff.”

“Can you still set it up in the other room?” John asks Hardison.

“Sure, man. Might have to drill a few more holes for the cables and stuff, but we should be able to make it work.”

They start packing everything up and Eliot goes back into the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready. “Hey! Where is Jonas?” he calls into the other room.

“He called earlier,” John says loudly. “Said he was running late.”

“It’s almost eight thirty,” Eliot says. “How late did he say he was going to be?”

“It is?” John asks, sounding much closer. A second later he’s standing in the entry to the kitchen. “He called around six. I thought he’d be here by now.”

Eliot sighs. “Numbers?”

“Yeah,” John answers sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, J. Go finish moving that shit out of the living room and I’ll call him.”

John grins and goes back to helping Hardison. Eliot pulls his phone out of his pocket and hits speed-dial eight, waiting impatiently as it rings.

Jonas picks up on the fourth ring. “Eliot?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to your place,” Jonas tells him. “I’m out with Parker.”

Eliot briefly wonders if Jonas has some kind of alien diplomatic immunity, because whatever he’s doing with Parker might require it. “Okay. See you in a few.”

“Bye, Eliot.”

Eliot hangs up and adds another plate to the counter for Parker. As they sort out dinner, Eliot thinks that they’ll probably have to get some kind of couch or something to go with the television and maybe a poster of giraffes or something so that the room doesn’t look so plain. He wonders if this means that John is ready to ask Jonas to move in, at the very least it means watching less football and hockey games on his computer and at the pub.

He thinks about Jonas and his love for the Weather Channel and shakes his head with a laugh. Jonas will love the Animal Planet, too, and Eliot makes a note to make sure that any cable package they buy has both.

-0-

Jonas likes Parker. Eliot thinks she’s weird and a little creepy, but Eliot seems to think that about most people. John thinks she’s weird, but not creepy, so Jonas figures that she _might_ be a _little_ weird. He can’t really tell.

It’s refreshing to be around someone who doesn’t care that he doesn’t know what velcro is or who Picasso was or where Turkmenistan is. Parker just lets him _be_. And as much as he likes John and Eliot, sometimes he just needs to not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or not knowing something.

Plus, Parker is teaching him things that she says everyone knows, such as picking locks, breaking into safes, and choosing the right zip line for his weight and height. Jonas has found that he really likes jumping off of buildings and riding down elevator shafts.

He also thinks that Parker is a little bit lonely. She never says she is, or even hints at it, but Jonas knows what it’s like to be constantly misunderstood and to constantly misunderstand the things around you. He knows what it’s like to need something to hold on to.

“What the hell?”

It takes Jonas a minute to wake up. He hugs his stuffed giraffe close and find Eliot standing next to the bed, staring down at him. His arms are crossed and there’s an angry expression on his face. “Eliot?” Jonas asks sleepily.

“What the hell is Parker doing in bed with you?”

Jonas turns his head to the side where Parker is either still sleeping or ignoring Eliot. She has her bunny in her arms and a small smile on her face. There’s at least a foot of space between them, if not more. “Sleeping.”

“Why is she even here to begin with?” Eliot demands. _Here_ being Jonas’s apartment.

“We were watching movies,” Jonas says. “It was really late when we finished, so she just stayed here.”

“Why is she in your bed with you?”

Jonas frowns. “Where else would she sleep?”

“The couch,” Eliot grinds out.

“I had room in my bed, though.”

“No, you do not have room in your bed. Your bed is for you or me or John. _Not_ for Parker.”

“Oh, calm down,” Parker says, sitting up, wide awake. “Nothing happened.”

“Next time you take the couch,” Eliot growls.

Parker makes a face. “ _Next time you take the couch_ ,” she imitates. “Please. Even if Jonas wasn’t all gay for you, nothing would happen. We’re just friends.”

“What time is it?” Jonas asks with a yawn.

“Almost eight,” Eliot answers. “John sent me to get you for breakfast.”

“Can I come?” Parker chirps.

“No,” Eliot growls. “Go bug Hardison.”

“But, Jonas--”

“Is busy,” Eliot finishes for him.

Parker makes a face at Eliot and then leans over and Jonas feels her lips on his cheek, giving him a quick kiss. She scampers out of the room, sticking her tongue out at Eliot’s back when she’s out of his line of vision. Jonas hides a smile.

Then Eliot’s sinking down on top of him and Jonas is pressed further into the mattress, feeling it dip on either side of him. Eliot claims his lips in a fierce kiss. It’s full of possession and Jonas moans a little. He grabs at the back of Eliot’s shirt, gripping the material tightly in his fist.

“No…more…sharing…a…bed…with…Parker,” Eliot says between kisses.

“I won’t,” Jonas swears.

Eliot pulls back and looks him in the eye. “I mean it.”

“I promise,” Jonas says in reply.

Eliot nods and his hands pull at the blanket between their bodies. He bends down and a few moments later he’s swallowing Jonas down. Jonas forgets everything else but Eliot.

-0-

When John sees them, he rolls his eyes and then kisses them both. Eliot has a sheepish look on his face and Jonas blushes. Jonas is still in his pajamas, so Eliot shoves him in the direction of the shower, leaving him and John alone.

John goes back into the kitchen and Eliot trails after him. There’s the beginnings of pancake batter in a bowl and John finishes stirring it together while Eliot slices some bananas for Jonas.

“Are you mad?” Eliot asks quietly.

“Why would I be mad?” John asks in surprise.

“Because I blew him without you there,” Eliot says bluntly.

John looks over at him. “I’m just disappointed that I didn’t get to watch,” he says, then goes back to pouring batter out onto the griddle.

“Should we talk about this?”

“Do we need to?” John returns. He sets the bowl back down and waits for the batter to bubble.

Eliot reaches out and runs a hand down John’s back, slowly. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, John,” he says quietly. And he is. Jonas is quickly working his way to the top with John, but for now, it’s still just John.

“I trust you,” John says. “And I trust Jonas. I’m not mad or hurt that I wasn’t there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” John smiles.

Eliot inwardly breathes a sigh of relief. He steps closer to John, leaning his hip against the counter. “I found him in bed with Parker.”

At that, John raises an eyebrow. “Just sleeping?”

“Yeah. He had that giraffe and she had some bunny thing with her. And they weren’t even touching, but that doesn’t matter, because he’s _ours_. And damn it, J, no one sleeps in his bed but us.”

John has an amused look on his face. “You don’t think you’re getting a little worked up over _Parker_? The same Parker who stabbed a man for looking at her wrong?”

“That was different,” Eliot mutters. “He _was_ looking at her wrong.” He sighs. “You don’t think they spend too much time together?”

John flips over the two pancakes on the griddle before answering. “I think,” he says slowly. “That they have a lot in common, and that Jonas could use a friend who isn’t us or someone he works with.”

Eliot gives him a look. “And you pick Parker?”

“ _He_ picked Parker,” John counters. John doesn’t say it, doesn’t have to. Eliot can hear the unspoken _he didn’t pick us_.

Eliot steps up behind John and worms his arms around him from behind, resting them underneath John’s shirt. He kisses John’s neck. “I love you.”

John melts into his embrace. “I love you, too.” He turns his head to the side and Eliot meets him halfway, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Eliot’s hands slide down and dip into the top of John’s jeans. “Mmm.”

“The pancakes will burn,” John murmurs.

Eliot reaches out and turns off the stove. “They can wait.”

“Jonas will be finished soon.”

“He can watch,” Eliot murmurs. He practically drags John through the house, pausing just long enough to knock on the bathroom door and holler at Jonas that they’re in the bedroom.

Their clothes come off in haste as they stumble to the bed. Eliot lands heavily on top of John and their mouths meet. John’s tongue pushes in and Eliot grinds their cocks together.

“Top or bottom, J?” Eliot breathes.

John answers by grabbing the lube off of the bedside table and pouring some into his hand. He reaches behind Eliot and slides a finger in easily. Eliot rocks back into it and captures John’s mouth again.

John teases his entrance with the tip of another finger and Eliot makes growls softly into John’s mouth. John breaks the kiss and laughs a little bit, but eases a second finger in alongside the first.

They both hear the shower turn off and Eliot feels himself harden more at the thought of Jonas dripping wet. When he turns his head, it’s to see Jonas frozen in the doorway, clutching a towel around his waist. There are water droplets making their way from his hair, down his chest.

John makes a choking noise and Eliot finds him staring at Jonas with unbridled want in his eyes. “Lose the towel,” John says.

Jonas’s eyes widen but he walks over to them and drops the towel on top of their pile of clothes. John pats the bed next to him and Jonas hesitantly climbs in. Hooking a hand around Jonas’s neck, John pulls him in for a deep kiss, one of the hottest things Eliot has ever seen.

Eliot makes an impatient noise and John slides his fingers out and Eliot feels him positioning himself. It burns a little as Eliot takes John in until he’s sitting on John’s thighs. It’s a good kind of burn, though, and he lets out a low groan.

John breaks away from Jonas long enough to ask, “You okay?”

Eliot nods and slowly lifts himself up, starting to fuck himself on John’s cock. John has his hand on Eliot’s hips, steadying him. He can feel Jonas’s eyes on him, watching him. It’s the first time he’s seeing Eliot on the bottom, even if he’s technically on top.

They move together well, John thrusting up as much as he can while Eliot rides him. Eventually one of John’s hands slips from his waist and Eliot watches it wrap itself around Jonas’s cock. The other hand moved to surround Eliot’s dick, and John begins to jerk them both off at the same time.

Eliot comes first, shooting all over John’s stomach. Jonas comes after that--he’s never had very good stamina; Eliot thinks it’s because he hasn’t had that much sex. John comes last, filling Eliot up.

When Eliot can breathe again, he’s slumped over John with Jonas curled into their side. They’re all sticky and sweaty, but he doesn’t care because it’s _perfect_.

“I need another shower,” Jonas says suddenly.

John laughs. “I wonder if we can all fit.”

Eliot thinks about it. He and John have fit together comfortably in the shower here, and he thinks they might be able to squeeze Jonas in with them. “I think we can.”

John gives Jonas a sloppy kiss and then does the same to Eliot. He lightly smacks Eliot’s butt before gently pushing him off. “Shower and then pancakes.”

“With bananas?”

Eliot rolls his eyes fondly. “Wouldn’t serve you any other kind.”

-0-

John’s almost accustomed to Jonas sleeping with him and Eliot, so when he reaches out and only finds one body in the darkness he panics a little until he remembers that Jonas went home the night before. Eliot grabs his arm and holds it close, stopping John’s movement so he can sleep a little longer.

He lays in the dark, Eliot wrapped around him, and thinks.

He thinks about what they’re doing with Jonas. Jonas who is so innocent, so earnest, so eager to soak up everything around him. But John can’t deny that Jonas is filling up spaces in his and Eliot’s relationship, that he’s integrated himself into John’s heart and his life.

He thinks about Eliot. Eliot whose job is so demanding and exhausting, but so fulfilling. He gives all of himself to help others and then he comes home to John, and still has time and love and energy to be everything John needs. There’s always doubt lurking in the back of his mind of when Eliot’s going to move on, going to find someone else. Most days John can ignore it, some days it’s more overwhelming than the numbers all around him.

Eliot moves a little and John quirks a smile that no one sees. He catches a number floating by and lets himself be pulled along with it.

-0-

Jonas is in the middle of energy calculations for a new set of weapons for the _Hammond_ when his phone rings. He absently grabs for it. “Quinn.”

Eliot laughs. “ _Is that really how you answer the phone at work?_ ”

Jonas blinks. “It’s how everyone else answers the phone.”

Eliot laughs again. “ _Are you coming for dinner tonight?_ ”

“I was there last night.”

“ _Yep_.”

“And the night before.”

“ _And?_ ”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“ _Bother me?_ ”

“By coming over all the time,” Jonas says.

There’s a brief pause before Eliot exhales. “ _Jonas, I don’t think you get it. John and I want you here_ all _the time_.”

“All the time?” Jonas repeats.

“ _We were waiting to ask you until you seemed more settled with us, but we want you to move in_.”

“Move in?”

“ _Live with us_ ,” Eliot says. “ _John’s been busy setting up the spare room as an office/whatever room for you_.”

On Langara moving in with someone is the same as marrying them. Jonas knows that’s not how it is here, but it’s what he was raised to believe, and it’s hard to fight beliefs with knowledge.

Jonas thinks he must have been quiet for too long, because Eliot starts talking again. “ _We know it’s a big step for you, but we really want you here, Jonas. John gets confused when he wakes up without you, and so do I. When you’re not here, we miss you. John makes too many pancakes, I make a veggie burger before realizing there‘s no one here to eat it. Jesus, Jonas, everything just feels…wrong. It’s like, the house is too big without you here. It was never big before you._ ”

  
 _  
_

Jonas feels warm and achy all at the same time. He thinks of his parents, of Rosslyn, of his people. He thinks of Langara, long gone, but still there, still drifting in space, just empty of everything that made it _home_. John and Eliot are home now. He doesn’t want to betray his past, his people, his culture--but every day he’s more sure that he loves them. That they’re his future. He doesn’t know how to reconcile what he knew with how he feels.

“ _Jonas?_ ”

“I’m here, Eliot,” he answers. “I… My people they don’t live together unwed.”

“ _Unwed… You mean before they’re married_?”

“Yeah.” Jonas can imagine Eliot pinching the bridge of his nose.

“ _So that’s a_ no _?_ ” Eliot asks softly. Jonas hears the hurt in his voice that he desperately tries to hide.

“Can I think about it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Eliot answers. “ _Of course_. _In the meantime, come to dinner tonight, okay? I’m making vegetarian lasagna.”_

Jonas smiles. “I’ll be there.”

-0-

Jonas is watching the giraffes eat when Parker leans over and kisses him. It’s a full on kiss, on the mouth, not like the cheek where she usually plants one. He’s stunned, at first, and then a lot unsure. She stands there, staring at him, blinking in confusion as though Jonas kissed her and not the other way around.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

He smiles at her. “No problem. Just, uh, don’t tell Eliot, okay? Or John. They kind of frown on these things.”

She smiles back and nods. “Your secret is safe with me,” she vows. She leans in closer to him. “So what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Jonas asks, looking back at his giraffes.

“You know,” she insists. “ _It_.”

Jonas never knows. He really thought people would have figured that out by now. “What’s _it_?”

“What’s it like being with two guys?” she asks loudly. A mother nearby gives them both a look and ushers her daughter away.

Jonas flushes self-consciously and shrugs. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Jonas confirms. “But I don’t really have much to go off of.”

“Everyone’s curious, you know,” Parker says. “About you, and about you and John and Eliot. How it works. We were pretty surprised when Eliot told us.”

“I was, too.”

“I know Sophie’s dying to meet you, and Nate, but he hides it better.”

“They should come over for dinner,” Jonas says, watching one of the older giraffes walk over to get some water. “Eliot’ll cook.”

She slings an arm around his shoulders. “I like you, Jonas,” she declares. “You’re a good lock.”

Jonas pulls his eyes away from the animals. “Lock?”

She shrugs, “People are like locks, you know? Complicated and frustrating--you can’t force them. You have to take time and be…fiddly, patient. You’re a good lock, Jonas.”

Jonas grins and leans over, kissing her cheek. “You, too.” He pauses. “Want to get a piñata on the way home?”

She grins back at him. “Definitely. And Eliot is not going near this one.”

-0-

On the one year anniversary of the extinction of Langara, Jonas goes to the pub, orders a whiskey, and drinks it. Then he orders a second one. He’s on his fourth when Eliot finds him. There’s shock in Eliot’s eyes at the amount of empty glasses in front of him. It’s covered up quickly, but Jonas sees it anyway.

Eliot has a beer in hand when he sits down with Jonas, and a glass of water. He doesn’t say anything when Jonas downs the remainder of his drink. He does push the water across the table, though. Jonas downs that, too.

Everything inside of him hurts and Jonas is overwhelmed with guilt for still being here while so many of his people aren’t. He’s overwhelmed with anger and hatred and a deep sadness that Jonas thinks might never go away.

He has John and Eliot and Parker and giraffes and his people are dead.

Dead. Gone. Wiped out.

Jonas wants to cry, except he thinks he ran out of tears long ago. Everything inside of him hurts _so fucking much_. He wonders if this is the price to pay for surviving when he should have died.

Jonas feels his body shake and a sob lets itself loose. Then Eliot is there, wrapping him up in his arms. It doesn’t feel as safe as it usually does, not as comforting. “Eliot,” he whispers into Eliot’s neck.

He feels Eliot move, and then he’s being cradled in Eliot’s arms, hugged to his chest. It should be embarrassing, but Jonas just can’t care. He’s barely aware of Eliot buckling him into his truck. The next thing he knows, he’s naked, in bed with Eliot curled around him, equally as naked.

Tears that he’d thought had dried up are pouring down his face in a way that shows no indication of stopping.

A body slips in behind him, warm skin pressing against Jonas’s. He thinks he’s starting to feel the alcohol, he feels warm instead of the chill he’s had all day, and his mind is beginning to lose focus. There’s a hand in his hair and another one rubbing circles on his stomach and Jonas lets himself be lulled into sleep, tears still wet on his face.

When he wakes up, John and Eliot are still there. Jonas feels alone in this galaxy, but not in this bed. “Hi,” he says quietly, voice raspy from sleep and from crying.

Eliot, who’s facing him, stares into Jonas’s eyes. Jonas meets his gaze before lowering his eyes. Behind him he feels John press his lips to Jonas’s shoulder in greeting.

He appreciates that neither of them ask him if he’s feeling better.

Eliot presses a kiss to Jonas’s forehead. “Go back to sleep, darlin’.”

Jonas blinks sleepily at the nickname. Before now it’s always been reserved for John, but the hand on his stomach is moving in circles again and Jonas sees only the blue of Eliot’s eyes before the black of sleep.

-0-

Jonas blinks awake slowly. He notices immediately that there’s only one body in bed with him and it only takes a second to figure out that it’s Eliot. He hears a noise in the hallway and turns towards the door. John walks in quietly and makes his way back over to the bed. It dips behind Jonas as John lays down. Jonas knows that they’re all awake, but he’s not sure what to say, so he says nothing.

“I stopped and picked up Molly on my way home,” John says, breaking the silence. “I put her in your room.”

“Thanks.”

“She seemed worried about you,” John says.

Eliot coughs. “Very subtle, J.”

“I’m just saying that…Eliot and I are here for you, Jonas.”

Jonas is hit with the sudden realization that he loves them--John and Eliot. Loving them is at odds with everything he’s been taught, but he loves them anyway. He still feels an ache so deep that it hurts to breathe right now, but having John and Eliot there helps. He’s not sure how it helps, but it does.

“Can we invite Eliot’s team over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“All of them?” Eliot asks.

“Yes.”

“I have to buy beer,” John says. “And wine for Sophie.”

“We can barbeque,” Eliot muses. “I can make you a veggie burger, Jonas.”

“We’ll go shopping after we get up,” John tells them. “Maybe get some bananas and make smoothies.”

Jonas manages a small smile at that. Eliot reaches out and traces it with his fingertips. “I’ve missed that,” he whispers. Jonas tries another one, a bigger one. Eliot makes a face. “Don’t rush it,” he says before he leans in and kisses Jonas softly on the lips.

Jonas runs his hand down Eliot’s side. His skin feels warm and Eliot feels real, alive. Jonas’s breath hitches and he’s crying again. Two bodies wrap around him tightly and Jonas sometimes remembers to breathe.

-0-

After grocery shopping, Eliot leaves to do mysterious Eliot stuff, and John sits on the couch and is lost to the numbers within minutes. The first time Jonas saw it happen, he completely freaked out. Now it’s mostly normal.

Jonas lays down on the couch with his head in John’s lap and his eyelids fall close as he drifts off to sleep.

When he awakens, John is combing his fingers through Jonas’s head, out of the numbers before Jonas is out of his sleepy memories. John smiles down at him. “I love you,” he says fondly, without preamble. His eyes sparkle and his face has a gentle look to it. “I love you so much, Jonas.”

The last person to say that to Jonas had been dying. He hopes John’s not dying. He says as much.

John looks at him with sad eyes. “I’m not dying,” he promises. “I just really love you.”

When Jonas thinks about love, it hurts. Even when he thinks about loving John and Eliot. But John’s face is so open and honest. Jonas reaches a hand up and cups John’s cheek. He smiles, and this one…this one stretches across his whole damn face. “I love you, too, John.”

Relief passes over John’s face and happiness settles upon it. “Thank you,” John whispers. Jonas isn’t sure what he’s thanking him for, but he nods and turns his head to press a kiss to John’s stomach through his shirt. He hooks his hand on the back of John’s neck and pulls him down into a kiss.

-0-

Eliot is in the middle of flipping burgers when two arms worm their way around his stomach. It’s easy to tell Jonas from John, although he couldn’t tell you why. They’re just both so different that there’s no real chance he’s ever going to mix them up.

Jonas leans forward so that his head is next to Eliot’s as he watches him barbeque. Eliot is sure that his team is watching them, but doesn’t care. He turns his head and gives Jonas a kiss on the cheek. “I put cheese on your veggie burger.”

“Thanks,” Jonas says. He’s in a good mood today, a drastic change from yesterday. Eliot still has no idea why Jonas spent most of the weekend crying. “I love you, Eliot,” he says easily.

Eliot drops the burger that’s between his tongs. It lands on another one and he absently pushes it off. “What?”

“I love you,” Jonas repeats. He gives Eliot a sloppy kiss on his jaw and slips a hand under his t-shirt to rest on his stomach. “I think I have for a while,” he says. “And I told John yesterday, so I figure it’s only fair to tell you, too.”

Well, that solves the question of why John’s been floating on cloud nine for the past twenty-four hours. A smile, unbidden, breaks out across Eliot’s face as Jonas’s words sink in. He feels warm and happy and lighter all at once. Eliot shifts a little to the side so he can lean up a bit to whisper, “I love you, too, Jonas.”

Jonas beams at him and Eliot leans in and covers the smile with his lips, licking at it until Jonas lets him in. It’s an easy kiss, and Jonas tastes like the blue Jell-o that John had made for him.

He’s never thought things would be this easy, that Jonas would be exactly what they need. Although, if Eliot’s honest, he hadn’t really thought they needed someone else. Jonas took him by surprise, and Eliot’s glad he did.

He pulls back reluctantly from the kiss and glances at the burgers. “I have to finish cooking, go make sure Parker doesn’t steal anything, okay?”

Jonas nods. “John wants to know if you want a…Sam Adams? Or a Stella Artois.” He pauses. “Earth names are weird.”

Eliot laughs. Most days it’s easy to not think about Jonas being from another freakin’ _planet_. “That they are. Tell him I’ll take a Stella.”

Jonas is half way across the backyard when Eliot realizes he’s cold now, despite the sun. When Jonas comes back with his beer, Eliot decides to make him stay.

-0-

Jonas is talking to Nate. John’s never really gotten along with Nate, not even after the other man finished rehab, and for the most part, he’s okay with that. They’re friendly enough. If John saw him on the street or something, he would say _hi_. Nate’s over for dinner more than a few times a year. But, still, John doesn’t think they’ll ever be friends.

Nate, though, is laughing at something Jonas said. His body language is open and relaxed. He likes Jonas. John thinks he should probably feel jealous, but he really only feels relief. Now he’s free to not try so hard with the other man. He knows that Nate is one of Eliot’s closest friends, and he’s always felt bad that they’ve never really connected. Now they have Jonas, and John feels a bit like he’s off the hook.

“--thought you, me, next Saturday and Sunday,” Hardison says. John blinks and realizes that Alec’s been talking to him the whole time. Now he’s looking at John expectedly and John has no idea what is happening next Saturday.

“Sorry,” he says, tearing his gaze away from Jonas and Nate. “What?”

Hardison laughs. “Man, you and Eliot are so gone on your boy, Jonas.”

“You’re just jealous,” John returns with a grin. Hardison’s gaze drifts over to where Parker is standing, poking at Eliot. John nudges Hardison’s shoulder. “You should ask her out.”

Hardison’s quiet for a moment before shaking his head sadly. “Nah, man, she doesn’t…it’s not…she’s _Parker_ , you know?” He sighs and then looks back at John. “Anyway, what I was saying is, there’s this conference next weekend, some tech, some science, and I thought you might be down for goin’ with me?”

“Sure,” John agrees. “E-mail me the details.”

Hardison grins. “Awesome.” He pulls out his phone and a few taps later he says, “Sent.”

“I really need to get a phone that does more than make phone calls.”

“I’ve been telling you that for months,” Alec says. “If you’re finally ready, I can hook you up with some sweet stuff, yo.”

“Awesome.”

Jonas and Nate both laugh at something and John doesn’t even try to hide his grin.

-0-

They spend the first Saturday of July moving Jonas in. Jonas had seemed really torn when he told them that he was ready to move in. Eliot only knows a little bit about why Jonas is so hesitant, for someone who can go on and on about whatever book he’s reading, Jonas is pretty tight lipped on the important things.

Sometimes Eliot wishes Jonas were a little more like John, just blurting things out, more willing to talk it through. He knows, though, that as much as that would make things easier, it would make him less _Jonas_ , less everything that Eliot loves about him. So he lives with it as it is. Eliot’s always been pretty patient.

Jonas sets up a dresser in his room and stores his shirts in the closet there. He might be sleeping in their bed, but there’s not enough room for everyone’s clothes in the master bedroom. Eliot’s already caught John wearing his shirts and Jonas wearing John’s, so he figures it’s really just a matter of time until they’re all sharing clothes anyway. John and Jonas are pretty much the same size in everything, so pants are probably next on the list of things they would swap.

Other than clothes, though, Jonas doesn’t have much. He has two pictures, one with people that Eliot doesn’t recognize but who are wearing military fatigues, and one with John and Eliot in front of the giraffes. They left the cookware and the television, along with the furniture, in the apartment. Jonas had said that the military would either move someone else in there or put the stuff in storage. Other than that, though, it’s just an iPad, a couple of books, and a gun safe.

It takes them less an hour to unpack everything.

Eliot’s content to spend the rest of the day in bed, he just has to convince John and Jonas to spend the rest of the day in there with him. John will be easy to convince--he likes sex. Jonas seems to like it, but Eliot thinks he holds back because of cultural differences.

“Good?” John asks.

Eliot squints. “A little to the left.”

John’s hanging Jonas’s two framed pictures up on the wall. Jonas is watching and Eliot’s directing, and for some reason it takes longer than it should with three people working at it.

“Now?”

“Yeah,” Eliot says. He reaches up and helps John down off the chair and Jonas puts it back in the dining room. “Let’s spend the rest of the day in bed,” Eliot murmurs. He leans in and kisses John’s neck, sliding his hands into John’s back pockets.

“Gotta convince Jonas,” John answers, grinding their hips together.

“Jonas!” Eliot says loudly. Jonas pokes his head around the corner, looking so fucking _innocent_. “What are you doing?”

“Making pudding,” Jonas informs him promptly.

“Pudding?” John mumbles. “Didn’t we just send him to put a chair away?”

“It’s chocolate,” Jonas says happily.

“Put it in the fridge and come get naked with us,” Eliot tells him.

“Okay.” He disappears from sight and Eliot can hear him moving around in the kitchen.

“He’s weird,” Eliot says.

John laughs. “He’s an alien.”

“Do you think all of his organs are in the same place?”

“…Did you really just ask me that?” John gapes.

“Shut up,” Eliot glares. “It’s a legitimate question.”

John laughs but calls out, “Hey, Jonas?”

“Yeah?” Jonas answers from the kitchen.

“Are all of your organs in the same place as ours?”

“Uh…” Jonas walks into the living room with a confused look on his face. “I’m not sure where yours are,” he admits. “I should read a book.”

“We’ll tell you where ours are while we’re getting naked,” Eliot says. He reaches out and snags a bit of Jonas’s shirt. “Bedroom.”

It’s hot in July, but the air-conditioning is on, although not high enough that they’re freezing, just enough to make it bearable. So Eliot catches John’s shiver as he strips. He thinks John is the only person who could be cold in July. They sink easily into the bed, a mix of skin and limbs. John’s already half hard and Eliot’s close behind him. Jonas is still soft, but that’s because he was making pudding while John was rubbing off on Eliot.

John’s in the middle and Eliot traces a hand down his chest. “Heart,” he says, pointing. “Stomach…spleen…liver…kidneys…intestines…bladder…pancreas…lungs…appendix…” he lets his hand drift across John’s chest as he points out different things to Jonas. Jonas watches with interest and Eliot can see his cataloguing where everything goes.

“So?” John breathes as Eliot’s hand drifts down to his cock. “Same or different?”

“Different,” Jonas tells them. “I think. We don’t have the same names for things. I only recognized some of the things you said”

Eliot raises an eyebrow at him as he fists John’s cock. “Yeah?”

“Our hearts are more on the right side,” Jonas says.

John reaches a hand up and rests it on the right side of Jonas’s chest. “Whoa. How have we never noticed that before?”

“My stomach is also lower,” Jonas says, pointing down. “And I don’t know what an appendix is.”

“We’ll get you a book tomorrow,” Eliot says. He reaches out and hooks a hand on the back of Jonas’s neck, pressing him down until he’s leaning over John’s erection.

He watches as Jonas licks his lips and then opens his mouth, sucking the tip of John’s cock in. Jonas has only done this a few times, but he seems to like it. John’s a lot better at giving head, but John’s had a lot more practice and loves sucking cock more than any other man Eliot knows. So, there’s that.

Jonas is enthusiastic though, and John is making little noises that go straight to Eliot’s groin. He leans down and kisses John thoroughly, crushing their lips together. John returns the kiss with equal fervor, pushing his tongue into Eliot’s mouth. They’re all breathless when John pulls Jonas up to them. Eliot kisses Jonas, tasting John on him. It’s so fucking hot.

“Can we take you?” John asks, rubbing one of Jonas’s nipples.

There’s just heavy breathing in the silence as they wait for Jonas to answer. It’s not an immediate _no_ , so Eliot thinks he may actually be giving it some thought. “Will it hurt?” Jonas asks quietly.

“Yes,” John answers.

“But not for long,” Eliot cuts in. “First time’s always the worst.” Except in John’s case with that asshole Michael Riley, but he doesn’t say that, and John doesn’t correct him.

Jonas nods slowly. “I’m scared,” he whispers.

“Do you trust us?” Eliot asks. He knows Jonas loves them, but he also knows that trust doesn’t always come with love.

“Yes,” he nods.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” John promises. “You say _stop_ and we stop.”

“Who…?” Jonas asks softly.

John looks at Eliot and Eliot sees a question in his eyes. Eliot shakes his head slightly, telling John that he doesn’t mind if John is first. He thinks that John needs this, he needs Jonas to have a good first time so he can associate sex with feeling good.

They move around so that Jonas is lying on the mattress. Eliot lays on his side next to him. John crawls down Jonas’s body and meets Eliot’s eyes again, gesturing slightly to himself. Eliot nods.

John leans down and starts sucking Jonas’s cock in earnest. Eliot loves watching John and he hates that part of the reason John’s so good at blow jobs is that he had to be. Eliot watches Jonas watch John as he reaches for the lube. Jonas shakes a little and Eliot rubs a hand on his stomach. “Relax,” he says into Jonas’s ear. “John won’t let anything happen to you, and neither will I.”

“I know,” Jonas says, breathing carefully. Eliot reaches down and spreads Jonas’s legs while John pours lube out onto his fingers.

“Relax,” Eliot says again.

Jonas nods and Eliot watches him slowly relax. John still has Jonas’s cock in his mouth when he reaches a hand up. There’s a moment when Jonas tenses and Eliot gently rubs circles onto Jonas’s stomach. He relaxes and Eliot sees the second John’s finger slips in because a curious look makes its way onto Jonas’s face. There’s still nervousness and a little bit of fear, but for right now he seems okay and mostly interested in cataloguing this new feeling.

The second John’s finger rubs against Jonas’s prostate, his eyes go wide and his mouth opens. “What was that?”

“Prostate,” Eliot tells him.

“I read about those,” Jonas says shakily. “But I didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

“Like it?” Eliot asks.

“Y-yeah.”

John lifts his head off of Jonas’s dick, and his lips are swollen and red, his cheeks rosy. He looks delicious. He sits up more and leans over to kiss Eliot briefly. “Doin’ okay, Jonas?” John asks.

“Yeah.”

“Ready for another finger?”

Jonas doesn’t look that ready but he bravely says, “Yes.”

Eliot watches John slip another finger in and then wait for Jonas to start breathing again. He wonders what it’s like to be Jonas’s age and still a virgin. The first time Eliot had sex he came so fast that it was pretty embarrassing. Of course, he’d also been fifteen, so that hadn’t helped.

Watching John slowly work Jonas open is incredibly hot and Eliot’s dick is hard against Jonas’s side. He wants in John _right now_. He takes a deep breath and waits.

Eliot’s only a little surprised when Jonas reaches out and takes his hand, he squeezes it as John stretches him and Eliot holds on tight. He leans in and kisses Jonas’s jaw. “Okay?”

“Yeah, just…don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Eliot promises.

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

Jonas winces and Eliot knows that John’s worked a third finger into him. John takes his time and Eliot knows they’re both waiting for some sign from Jonas that he’s ready.

It seems like hours later when Jonas finally says, “Okay.”

John meets Eliot’s eyes and Eliot nods. John drizzles some lube down onto his cock and Eliot reaches out and wraps his hand around it, spreading the lube up and down it. When he lets go of John’s cock he fists his own, lubing it up for later.

John moves up and leans over Jonas. He gives him a quick kiss, and then one to Eliot, before he positions himself. There’s silence, broken only by Jonas’s heavy breathing.

John pushes in and Jonas makes a soft noise of surprise and then he’s quiet again. His hand tightens on Eliot’s and John keeps going until he can’t. When he stops, Jonas makes another noise, one Eliot can’t interpret.

“I’m gay,” Jonas says in surprise.

John lets out a shaky laugh. “Congratulations.”

“I mean I’m really gay.”

“What did you think you were before?” John asks.

“Just a little bit gay.”

“A little bit gay?” Eliot laughs. “Well, as long as you’re _really gay_ now, for me and John, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

John makes a kind of impatient noise and Eliot grins at him.

“Oh,” Jonas says. “Sorry.”

“Okay?” John asks, moving experimentally.

Jonas bites his lip then says, “Yeah.”

-0-

It feels like nothing Jonas has ever felt before. It’s overwhelming and everywhere. There’s pain, but Eliot’s right, it’s not that bad, and it’s already fading. And John is inside of him. It’s weird and feels so final.

John begins to slowly move in and out of him at just the right angle to feel amazing. Jonas thinks he wants things like this for the rest of forever.

He’s so far gone that he almost misses it when Eliot moves from his side, still holding Jonas’s hand. He’s behind John and John pauses in his movements for a second and Jonas watches Eliot swiftly prepare John. It takes him seconds, nothing compared to how long John spent on him.

John sort of collapses down on him and Jonas can almost feel the moment Eliot pushes into him. They’re heavy, and Jonas can barely breathe, but they’re all so connected right now that he wants to stay like this always.

Then Eliot’s moving and John moves with him. They find their rhythm and Jonas is awash in pleasure again. He comes first, and someday he’s not going to, but that probably won’t be a while, because sex and orgasms are still so new and amazing.

John comes next, and it’s weird to think of him coming inside of Jonas. But he does. John’s breathing heavily into Jonas’s ear, “Can Eliot come in you, too?” he asks.

Jonas thinks it’s a little not fair to ask those kinds of questions while John’s dick is still up his ass, and while he just came harder than he ever had. On the other hand, it’s John and it’s Eliot, and Jonas isn’t going to say _no_ to them.

“Yeah,” he gets out. “Yeah.”

The bodies above him shift around and John collapses onto the bed next to Jonas, where Eliot had been earlier, and Eliot’s now between Jonas’s legs. “I’ll feel different than John,” Eliot warns him.

Jonas nods. “Okay.”

Eliot presses in, and immediately Jonas can tell a difference. Eliot’s thicker than John, and it stretches him a little bit more. John, he thinks, was a little longer, though, but it’s honestly hard to tell. Jonas figures he’ll figure it out later.

“Fuck,” Eliot swears. “God, Jonas…”

John chuckles a little in Jonas’s ear and now his hand is in Jonas’s instead of Eliot’s. He wonders when that happened.

Sex with Eliot is somehow different than sex with John. It’s no less fulfilling, though--it feels just as amazing. After a few minutes, Eliot shakes and Jonas feels him come.

Eliot pulls out and before he even rolls off of Jonas, John is out of bed, heading for the bathroom. “Is this a thing he does?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah,” Eliot drawls. “Just gotta let him do it. How are you feeling? Sore?”

“A little,” Jonas admits.

“I’m sure John’ll bring back something.” Eliot brushes a hand through Jonas’s hair, “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Jonas answers. “A lot.”

“A lot, huh?” Eliot asks, Jonas can hear the smile in his voice.

He leans over and gives Eliot a sloppy, wet kiss on the cheek. “Yep.”

Eliot makes a face and wipes the kiss away, but he’s still smiling while he does it. The bed dips behind them and John’s there. It’s perfect.

-0-

There’s a knock on the door next morning, and Jonas is the one who goes to answer it. Eliot and John both sleep lightly, but they’d both rather stay in bed than answer a door. Especially at seven in the morning. So Jonas pulls on some pants, winces just a little, and is almost to the bedroom door when a shirt hits him in the back. When he turns around neither John nor Eliot are owning up to it and Jonas just grins and picks the shirt up.

He slips into it on his way to the front door, and finds Parker waiting on the doorstep.

“I brought breakfast,” she says.

Jonas squints at the box in her hands. “What is that?”

“Fortune cookies.”

“What are those?”

Her eyes go wide. “You’ve never had a fortune cookie?”

“Are they like cereal?” Jonas has had cereal. He doesn’t really like it.

“Nope. And they have fortunes in them.”

“I didn’t think Ear--, uh, I didn’t think people ate cookies for breakfast.”

“They’re not real cookies,” Parker says. “So they don’t count.” She tugs him towards the kitchen table and Jonas follows haplessly.

She gets two bowls and then pours some oddly shaped things into each bowl. Jonas stares at them for a minute. “Should I get milk?”

“It’s not cereal,” she repeats with a roll of her eyes. He watches as she cracks one in half and pulls a piece of paper out of the middle. “ _The world is a narrow bridge_ ,” she reads. “ _The important thing is not to be afraid_.”

Jonas doesn’t think the world is a narrow bridge, but it doesn’t matter, because Parker’s already cracking open the second one.

-0-

John sighs. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Eliot groans and rolls over, burying his face in John’s shoulder. “I’m going to kill her. Who shows up at seven in the morning?”

John snorts and runs a hand through Eliot’s hair. “Parker.”

“Yeah, she definitely gets her own category of people.” Eliot sighs loudly, “Make him come back.”

Laughter spills in from the other room. “Should we be worried?”

“Depends on what you’re worried about. Jonas is pretty weird already, so I don’t think she can really infect him with weirdness.”

“I’m mostly worried that he’s going to decide he’s not _really gay_ anymore and run off with her,” John confesses.

“And miss out on all of the blue Jell-o you feed him?” Eliot teases. “I really don’t think he’s going to run off with Parker, J.”

“I love him.”

“I know,” Eliot says. “Me, too.” He moves his head and kisses John’s chin. “Don’t worry, he’s ours, John, and he knows it.”

There is more laughter in the kitchen and John tangles his hand in Eliot’s hair. “Should we be rescuing him?”

“Nah,” Eliot decides. “He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

-0- **END** **Part Three -0-**


	6. Epilogue: The Rest of Forever

**-0- BEGIN Epilogue: The Rest of Forever -0-**

  


Whenever Jonas is missing for any length of time without answering his cell phone, the first place Eliot checks is the zoo. Jonas still isn’t over those damn giraffes.

It’s sometime in September when Eliot finds him there, sitting on the Jonas Bench, as he calls it in his mind. He’s watching the giraffes play. It’s still sunny, but cold enough that Eliot shrugs out of his jacket and settles it over Jonas’s shoulders as he sits next to him. Jonas and John both get cold easily and Eliot is forever losing jackets to them.

Eliot leans back and lets his arms rest along the back of the bench, one behind Jonas. Jonas is sitting forward, with his elbows on his knees and doesn’t acknowledge Eliot except to scoot a little closer to him.

Most of the time Jonas is pretty happy. He always has a smile for people, always has a terrible joke to re-tell that Eliot and John have heard a thousand times, but he hadn’t. Jonas is easy to please, and is as easy-going as anyone Eliot’s ever known.

The rest of the time he’s quiet. Jonas can be quieter than John. He has expressions filled with horror and shame and longing pain. Guilt oozes out of him. Eliot knows a thing or two about survivor’s guilt, and Jonas seems to be carrying enough for his whole planet.

The quiet times come without rhyme or reason. What annoys Eliot is the way Jonas almost never turns to him or John. Jonas tries, Eliot can tell, but most of the time it takes him missing dinner or him gone before they wake up to tip them off.

If Jonas isn’t at the zoo, he’s probably with Parker or Hardison or both. But the zoo is where he goes to be quiet and alone. It’s a funny place to pick, as dozens of people walk by every hour, but Jonas never seems to notice them. Just the giraffes.

The zoo closes at five this late in the year, and while the zoo staff lets Jonas stay late sometimes, Eliot usually doesn’t. Around four-thirty Jonas leans back and curls into Eliot’s side.

It’s times like these when Eliot thinks that maybe John wasn’t the only person in their relationship who needed someone else to look after.

Eliot moves his arm and settles his hand on Jonas’s head, combing his fingers through the long locks. Jonas has been growing it out since they’ve met, but Eliot thinks it’s about time for a haircut.

This is the fourth time in as many days that Eliot’s come to sit with Jonas at the zoo. John had cornered him that morning and all but demanded he talk to Jonas. They both know that out of the two of them, Eliot’s been the closest to where Jonas is.

“Are you happy?” Eliot asks.

Jonas takes a moment to answer, it’s almost a moment too long. Almost, but not quite. “Yeah.”

“Then I think that your people, wherever they are, are happy for you,” Eliot tells him. “It doesn’t matter that you’re living a different sort of lifestyle now. You’re still you, Jonas. And you’ll always be Langaran. No one can take that away from you, not even you. I think that no one would begrudge you this happiness. I think they’d forgive you, Jonas. I think they’d understand. You’re alive, and you’re happy. I really think that’s all they care about.”

“I don’t want Langara to die with me,” Jonas says. “Or with what’s left of my people.”

“How come you didn’t go with them?”

Jonas shrugs a little. “They scattered across the galaxy to different planets. Everyone I knew had perished, so I came back to Earth.”

“Why didn’t you stay on Langara?”

“Our crops were all destroyed, many of the livestock were killed, there wasn’t enough life left to support those of us who remained.”

“Are all of the planets in the Milky Way taken?” Eliot asks. He presses his lips to Jonas’s temple in an almost-kiss. Jonas shakes his head and leans further into Eliot. “Why didn’t your people choose to settle on one of those?”

“Many went to stay with friends,” Jonas tells him. “We were too devastated by the loss of our home to really do anything else. We were stricken, Eliot, in numbers and in spirit.”

“It’s been over a year, darlin’. Would it be so hard to see if anyone is willing to relocate? To rebuild Langara?”

Jonas is lost in thought, and it seems to take forever before he finally says, “I’d be gone a lot.”

“We’d miss you a lot.”

“I would want to help them rebuild,” Jonas says and Eliot feels his heart tighten in his chest. He doesn’t want to lose Jonas, not now, not ever. “I wouldn’t stay though. I have a home, here, with you and John.”

Eliot exhales and hugs Jonas close to him. “No one ever said you can’t have two homes, Jonas.”

Jonas turns and bumps his forehead against Eliot’s, tugging on the shirt that Eliot‘s wearing. John’s shirt. “I already do.”

 **-0- END Epilogue -0-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 hates me, like super hates me, and I can't reply to comments posted here for some whoknowswhat reason (but I can read them), so if you'd like a reply, please leave them at my livejournal account: [here](http://race-the-ace.livejournal.com/173798.html).
> 
> The soundtrack to this story can be found and downloaded [here](http://race-the-ace.livejournal.com/170447.html).


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